Sunset
by Questfan
Summary: At sixteen, Joe was champing at the bit to be counted as a man. Until the day where his choices could have dire consequences for both his brothers.
1. Chapter 1

**Sunset**

Ben stared at the dust trail long after the three men had departed. His hands were firmly planted on his hips, mostly to keep them from clenching into a fist or reaching for his gun. He'd been hiring and firing ranch hands for long enough that he considered himself a fair judge of character and the three men he'd just sent on their way were not men he wanted on his payroll. He could not define just what it was that had riled him so much, but the conversation he'd interrupted between his youngest son and the apparent leader of the trio was enough to raise his hackles. At sixteen, Joseph considered himself a man and Ben had often had to stifle a chuckle as his youngest son fought to find his place in the world. Yes, he carried his fair share of the load, but he was a long way from the man he thought he was.

"Pa?"

The softness of the word caught his attention and Ben forced aside his thoughts and turned to see his son watching him. Joe's face was a mixture of anger and something else and Ben suddenly realised his boy was rattled, but trying desperately to pull himself together. He took a few steps towards his son and smiled calmly at him before placing a hand on his shoulder. He kept his face neutral despite feeling the tremor under his hand.

"What did they say to you, Son?"

Joe shifted and twisted out from under his father's hand.

"Nothin'! Just wanted to know if we had any work and weren't too happy when I told 'em no."

Ben frowned as he watched his son make his way back into the barn to resume his chores, but kept his mouth shut. He knew it was more than that and was glad he'd heard the riders from inside the house. He shook his head as he turned back towards the house, knowing he would not get anything further. Joseph seemed intent on proving himself a man since Ben had finally allowed him to leave school only a few weeks ago. Of course, some days were better than others and it seemed that today would be one where his youngest son simply clammed up. Adam had chastised Joe often enough that his angry outbursts were childish and while Joe had still champed at the bit, it was clear to all of them that he was trying to tame his temper.

By the time Adam and Hoss rode into the yard, Hop Sing had supper almost on the table and Joe had seemed to push aside the afternoon's events. For his part, Ben hadn't and he intended to ask Roy to keep an eye out for the trio of strangers. It would be hours later that Joe crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over his shoulder. He twisted his face into his pillow and tried to push down the images that arose in his thoughts. For all his tough words to others, especially Adam, he had felt the rush of fear as the three men had threatened him in his own yard. He felt shame rising up his throat as he recalled the relief of his father appearing on the front porch.

"Some man you turned out to be!"

The muttered words burned into his pillow and sleep eluded him for many hours to come as he considered the strangers' scorn at dealing with a boy. He could not define just what it was that bothered him so much, but he was relieved his father had not needed any more hands at the present time.

* * *

It would be a little over a week later that Joe came face to face with two of the three men once again. He'd been in town with Hoss, loading supplies into the back of the wagon when a ruckus erupted outside the Bucket of Blood. If Hoss hadn't been inside the mercantile at the time, the older brother might have clamped a hand on the younger brother's collar, but Hoss wasn't there to do so. Joe found his feet carrying him across the street alongside a gathering crowd of onlookers as a fight spilled out of the saloon doors. He heard glass shattering as a body flew through the window and the sound of angry voices carried on the breeze as he moved closer. A second later, one of the three men he'd encountered days earlier came clambering through the broken window. He hauled his victim to his feet and slammed a meaty fist into his face. Joe stood, almost transfixed as the man swung again, shouting alcohol-slurred words about what he would do to anybody who came against his brother. A part of him recoiled from the violence, but another part rose up into his throat and questioned what he would do if somebody hurt his brother.

Before he could think through the question, he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and he spun around to find Hoss glaring at him.

"Whaddaya think you're doin', Joe?"

As he opened his mouth to answer, the man began shouting again. "The folks in this god-forsaken town think you're all so much better'n us. Well, I got news for ya all. Ya just think ya are! Me an' my brothers just wanted some work! Earn a little coin and have ourselves a …"

Joe lost track of what the man was shouting as Hoss dragged him back towards the mercantile.

"Them fellas is trouble, Joe. Roy said they've been nothin' but trouble since they rode into town last month."

Joe swallowed down whatever it was that had crawled up his throat as he followed his brother across the road. He glanced back to see Roy and one of his deputies dragging two of the brothers across to jail, while a crowd had gathered around the man on the ground, who wasn't moving. Joe wasn't sure where the third one was, but he knew that Hoss wasn't going to let him wait around and find out. He shrugged as he climbed aboard the buckboard and allowed his brother to turn them for home. He almost smiled as he noted the school bell ringing and children spilling from the building. Hoss allowed their horse to amble up the road as children raced every which way and Joe really did smile as he considered the joy of escaping that building for the last time. It had been an uphill battle to convince his father that he really was done with his schooling and it had been a joyous day when he walked out for the last time.

A few children called out his name as they continued up the road and Joe waved in response. Suddenly he caught sight of Becky Longman and he waved at her as they passed. He was shocked to see her sombre face as she looked in his direction and he swiveled in his seat to keep watch on her as Hoss pushed towards home. Several of his former classmates had teased Becky more than once that she was sweet on a certain young Cartwright and she had blushed furiously while denying their claims. For his part, Joe thought she was pretty and her smattering of freckles on her nose had been his undoing more than once. Somehow, Miss Baker had snapped him out his daydream each time with a rap of her ruler on his desk. He frowned as he turned back in his seat, wondering why the usually vivacious young girl seemed so unlike herself.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Hoss pointed back over his shoulder.

"Hey, wasn't that little gal the one you danced with at Hal and Nancy's wedding? Becky something?"

He nudged at his little brother's elbow and grinned at him. When Joe barely nodded, he wondered if he'd touched a nerve. After all, Joe seemed to have a trail of girls following after him wherever he went and Hoss knew his pa had openly worried about his youngest son's sense of propriety on more than one occasion.

"Longman."

"Didn't seem real happy to see you, little brother. You done somethin' to upset her since then?"

"I haven't even seen her, Hoss!" The denial came out a little too angrily and Hoss frowned across the seat. Suddenly he grinned again.

"Maybe that's what got her all riled up! You ain't been to see her. It ain't polite to leave a lady waitin'."

"Shut up why don'tcha."

Hoss reined in his grin and looked straight towards the road ahead. "Anythin' you say, Little Joe. Anythin' you say."

It was a quiet trip back from town and Hoss began to wonder if there wasn't something more than girl troubles going on. He glanced across at his brother several times and noted that Joe seemed lost in thought. His mind wandered back to the look on Joe's face when he'd approached the Bucket of Blood and suddenly the penny dropped. Them two fellas that Roy had arrested were the same drifters that had turned up at the Ponderosa asking for work. He only knew that because his father had pointed them out some days later while in town and commented on how they had ruffled Little Joe's feathers. Adam had laughed that that wasn't exactly hard to do, but something about his father's face had quickly brought the laughter to an end. For his part, Hoss would be more than happy to see them move on. Something about them raised his hackles and Joe's interest in them earlier in the day, suddenly took on another layer of concern.

"I guess Roy'll read them fellas the riot act and point them outta town tomorrow."

Joe just nodded and Hoss knew he'd nailed something. He just didn't know what.

"Joe … them three ain't bothered you none have they?"

"No!" Joe's vehement response had Hoss raising his eyebrows a touch while still staring straight down the road.

Joe felt the heat rising up his neck as he recalled seeing two of the three only a few days ago. He'd been out on the south road heading for a neighbouring ranch when he'd come across them. They had recognised him immediately and he knew he had no choice but to continue on or turn tail for home like some kind of child. His newfound sense of manhood forced him to push down the fear and keep his horse trotting down the road, into the hands of the enemy. It wasn't until later that night that he allowed his fear to spill out in hot angry tears when he had been certain they would not allow him to pass unscathed. If not for the stage rumbling up the hill, he wasn't sure what would have happened and he shuddered to think about it. He just knew he didn't need his brothers going into town and defending him.

Hoss stored away the information and decided he'd have a quiet word with Adam once Joe was out of earshot.

* * *

Becky walked along the dusty road towards home, dragging her feet as she did so. She had no wish to get home any sooner than she had to and yet she knew her pa would be angry if supper was late again. She frowned as she stared at the road beneath her feet and wished for the tenth time that she had waved back at Joe and made him stop. She needed to tell somebody and everything in her had screamed at her to tell Joe, but something had clamped down over her mouth and silenced her. Just like the huge hand that had clamped over her mouth and stopped her from screaming for help. Tears welled in her eyes as she felt a wash of shame roll over her once again. One hand had silenced her mouth while another one had stroked the side of her face. A voice had whispered sick threats in her ears and her legs had turned to liquid beneath her. The memory welled up like some kind of phantom and she felt her insides roiling once again. She couldn't tell Joe and have her father's new ranch hand carry out his unthinkable threats. Becky suddenly realised she had stopped dead in the middle of the road and she slowly forced herself to move forward again. She would simply have to work out a way to outsmart the man without letting on to him that anything was amiss.

* * *

It would be another few days before Joe managed to get his list of jobs finished and was done earlier than he'd anticipated. When he reflected back on the decision later, it had felt like a spur of the moment decision. After a while, he had wondered if it had been more than that. Whatever had prompted it, the change of plans at the last moment would change the course of his life. Since seeing Becky in town and noting her strange reaction to him, he decided he needed to go and see her. After all, their three dances at the wedding of mutual family friends had been the sweetest he'd ever had. Becky's freckles seemed to tease him with their close proximity and for some strange reason all he wanted to do was plant a kiss on her nose. He knew both his father and Becky's father were watching them intently and he'd resisted the urge – just. Their parting comment to each other had been teasing and promised more and Joe couldn't figure what had happened since then to make her so mad with him.

He was deep in thought as he nudged his horse towards Becky's father's ranch and was unaware that anyone was anywhere near until he heard a scream. He lifted his head and tried to determine where the sound had come from as another scream gave him his bearings. Without stopping to think, he kicked his horse to a gallop and was horrified at what he saw when he rounded the bend on the road. Becky was scrambling to her feet, screaming again while a shadow in black towered over the top of her. The sound of his horse's hooves broke the air and he sucked in a breath when the shadow looked up. One of the three men who had threatened him had a grip on Becky's dress and he could see it was already torn. The man shoved her back to the ground as Joe pushed Cochise in between them, praying he didn't trample Becky in the process. There was no time for rational thought as he simply reacted to her distress.

"Get outta here, boy! This ain't none o' your business."

A fist swung towards him and Joe pulled back on the reins so sharply that Cochise reared back. As he gained his feet again, the hand grasped at Joe's ankle and he felt himself being hauled out of the saddle. He never saw the solid mass of knuckles that slammed into the side of his head and the sound of Becky's screams seemed almost surreal in the background. More wild punches, more screams and the taste of blood in his mouth had him reeling in a daze. He caught movement behind him and saw Becky staggering backwards as he tried to keep the focus on him. Wild rage welled up inside him as he saw the tattered state of her dress and he ploughed head first into his attacker. A hand grasped at the collar of his shirt and he felt himself lifted off his feet while the buttons on his shirt popped rapidly.

The air seemed to squeeze out of him as Joe felt a thick arm wrap around his chest and a hand grip at his throat. He panicked as his vision began to blur over and the sounds of Becky screaming were fading. With the power born of desperation, he grasped at the man's gun belt and inched a hand along until he felt the handle within his grasp. It was only supposed to make the man stop as he squeezed the trigger and Joe felt the world turning black as he ran out of air. The noise of the gun firing jolted him back to awareness and he felt himself falling as the grip around his neck slowly gave way. It was all he could do to make himself crawl toward the sound of Becky crying and away from the threats that mixed with a strange growling sound.

"You'll pay for this, Cartwright. My brothers'll make sure o' that."

Joe looked up to see the man lying on his side, clutching at a bloodied hole in his gut. He felt his head swirling again and he tried to force himself to focus. The man was muttering again, through gritted teeth, as more blood oozed out between his fingers.

"My brothers'll take away your brothers. An eye for an eye, Cartwright!"

Joe gradually became aware of Becky tugging at his arm and he looked up to see her tear-streaked face looming over him. His head was swimming and he shook it to make the world stay put. He suddenly wished he hadn't done so and gripped the sides of his head with both hands. It took a moment before he registered the blood on his hands and pulled them away to stare at them.

"Your brothers are history, boy!"

As the ugly words faded, Joe felt Becky pulling him to his feet and she shoved Cochise's reins into his hand. He turned to look at her as his own words stuck in his throat. As if someone was pulling the strings, he felt himself haul his body up into the saddle before stretching out a hand to Becky. She wrapped her arms around his waist and her head dropped against his back as they silently turned for the road again. He felt numb inside as he nudged the horse towards her home and almost fell off several times on the way there. His hands felt disconnected from his body and his thoughts swirled as he recalled the man's threats.

Afterwards, Joe had no recollection of the last few miles to the ranch until he felt Becky nudging at his arm once again. He turned in the saddle to see she was saying something and he knew he'd missed it. As he eased her to the ground, he could not make himself move from the saddle. Something nagged at him that he needed to run before the posse caught up to him. After all, he'd just murdered a man.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you lovely people for your kind words and messages. I'm actually working on a sequel to _Prodigal Sons_ that is just not behaving itself yet and this little idea kept bugging me instead. I'm glad you are enjoying it so far.

 **Chapter Two**

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Joe sat glued to the saddle. He felt Cochise dancing sideways as if his horse could pick up on his rider's tension. Becky was pulling at his arm and fresh tears streamed down her face. Her words floated away as if he had suddenly lost his hearing and he frowned at her, trying to grasp her meaning. Finally something in him snapped to attention and he slid from the saddle, almost collapsing onto the ground as his legs felt like rubber.

His thoughts raced and scrambled into such a mess that he would have been hard-pressed to tell anybody what his name was, if anybody had even asked. Which a jury would surely soon be asking. His full name. Joseph Francis Cartwright.

Son.

Brother.

Murderer.

He closed his eyes as he could see the headline of the _Territorial Enterprise_ describing the short life and death of the youngest son of Benjamin Cartwright.

"Pa … I'm sorry."

The thought was barely a whisper as Joe felt Becky tugging him towards the door. She fumbled for a lantern and matches as Joe stood just inside the doorway, uncertain of anything around him. He pushed the door closed as if he could shut out the outside world and what had just happened. Her voice finally broke through and he heard the terror in her words, if not the substance of what she was saying. As he looked at her and really took in the details, he noted the bruising across her face and the tattered state of her dress. He stared at her in shock while he tried desperately to form a coherent thought.

"Did he … did he hurt you?" He felt sick to the pit of his stomach as he stared at the frightened young girl in front of him. Flashes of her innocent laughter as she smiled at him mixed with her terrified screams and his hands clenched in fury. It was a stupid question, given her obvious state, but he couldn't formulate the real question he wanted to avoid.

Becky shook her head as she futilely tried to pull the torn pieces of her dress back into place. Her hands shook as she tugged at the fabric and he instinctively grabbed both of her hands in his. As he felt her fingers curl around his, he suddenly saw the dried blood on his hands and he shrank back from her.

"I have to … I can't stay … they'll …"

Joe began to back towards the door as Becky grasped at him again. "Joe, wait!"

"You heard him. His brothers … I've seen how they deal with things … my brothers are both in danger." Joe gulped a breath of air as if he was drowning. "I have to …"

"Joe, it was an accident! You were defending me! Sheriff Coffee will understand that."

"But his brothers won't see it that way. They won't stop to ask questions. Adam … and Hoss … they'll never …" Joe was breathing so hard that Becky was afraid he was going to keel over. "I have to leave. If they don't know it was me then Adam and Hoss are safe. I have to …"

Neither of them heard boots on the wooden boards outside the door as Becky grasped at Joe once again. "Joe, no! Please don't!"

The next few moments were a blur as Ed Longman burst through his front door. His little girl was almost hysterical and her dress was torn in several places. Afterwards, he would try to think if there was any other way he could have seen things, but in that moment, he saw his baby in the hands of a boy who had clearly overstepped the mark by a long shot. Joe's shirt hung loose on his frame and Ed's rage ran red as his mind filled in the blanks. He grasped at Joe's shoulder and swung the boy towards him, before planting his fist squarely in his face. As Joe toppled backwards over the kitchen table, Ed had his gun in his hand while Becky screamed at him to stop.

"Papa! Leave him be!"

Joe scrambled to his feet and came face to face with the barrel of Ed's revolver.

"Get out of here, boy, before I blow your head off!"

"Papa! Don't hurt him!" Becky grasped at her father's elbow and he forced his arm higher to wave her off. The shot went wild and lodged in the doorframe, splintering bits of timber onto the floor. Joe didn't wait for a second shot to find its mark as he bolted for the door. Angry shouts followed him out into the evening as he threw himself onto his horse and raced wildly out of the yard. He had no idea where he was headed. All he knew was he needed to get away.

* * *

Ben forced himself to cut another piece of roast beef and bite into it, even as his thoughts were wandering elsewhere. After all, Joseph had told them all so many times that he was a grown man and could handle himself and Ben reasoned that he was trying to give him the room to do so. Being late to supper was not unheard of and it could be a simple reason why, but that did not stop a father's heart from worrying. He glanced across the table and saw his own worry reflected back at him as the conversation had taken a decided lull. Adam would be the first to chastise Joe for being tardy, claiming the boy never could keep track of time, but even he looked concerned. Hoss was eating, but half his supper still sat on his plate and that was enough indication that he too was worried. Hop Sing had retreated to the kitchen, but even his surly mood had carried over into the dining room. He was not happy that number three son was not sitting where he should be.

"We'll finish up and go and take a look for him." Ben noted that both his sons looked relieved at the comment.

"He'll be mad at us. Think we don't trust him to finish a job on his own." Hoss looked back at his father, internally weighing the cost against the possible gain.

"Yes, he probably will be. And if he's just running behind, we'll help him finish." Ben forced himself to swallow a mouthful of potatoes through a very dry throat.

* * *

Becky pulled the edge of the blanket up around her shoulder and tried to stem the tears that still threatened. She felt exhausted and her eyes drooped closed. The sound of her father's boots on the wooden floor startled her and she jolted awake again.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." Ed sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers over his daughter's hair. The eyes that looked up at him brimmed with tears and he silently cursed himself again for putting them there. For over five years it had just been the two of them and he would have given anything to protect his child. So how had he failed her so miserably?

"Papa … Joe really didn't hurt me. He saved me from … that …" As the terrifying memories overwhelmed her once again, Becky turned her face into her pillow and began to sob. She felt herself being drawn into her father's arms and she grasped at his shirt as she had done since she was a small child. The smell of his pipe tobacco mixed with his familiar scent and she felt herself slipping into the safest place she knew.

"I know that now. I'm so sorry, me darlin'. I'll fix it with him tomorrow. Don't you worry none. I'll fix it."

Ed felt his daughter relax against him and the sobs gradually subsided. He allowed himself to linger for a while longer, but knew that he still had another job to do. He slowly eased Becky back down towards the bed and pulled the blanket around her once again.

"I'm just goin' up the road to ask Missus Morton to come down and sit with you while I go and see the sheriff."

Becky grasped at his wrist as he went to stand up.

"She'll be here real soon. I promise." Ed leaned down and kissed the top of her head before making a show of tucking the blanket in again. "I'll see you when I get back."

It hadn't taken long to ride to the neighbouring ranch and get the mother of six to come over and watch his daughter for a spell. Of course he hadn't given much in the way of detail, but had explained his daughter had needed someone while he attended to an urgent matter. The woman had all but adopted his only child into her tribe and was only too happy to help. It had helped ease the guilt a little as Ed rode into the darkness once again, this time searching for the body of the man he had wanted to kill with his own hands. A part of him hoped to find the man still alive and suffering great pain, but he knew that a gutshot was almost always fatal. It had been hours since Little Joe had shot the man and he knew he was most likely looking for a dead man.

Based on the description that Becky had given him, it wasn't hard to find the body right where he expected it to be. As he pulled his horse up and tethered her to a bush, he swung the lantern down low and glared at the features of the man he'd been stupid enough to employ only a short time back. Some of the year he ran his modest ranch on his own while other times required him to hire help. It was a fine balance between need and cost and Stan Hamilton and his brothers had presented themselves at the right time. Of course, he could only hire on one of them and had chosen Stan, more by whim than anything else. He sucked in a breath as he wondered out aloud what would have happened if he had hired another of the brothers. Would his little girl have been subjected to threats and such violence? Would Joe Cartwright have been forced to kill a man in order to save his daughter?

"Damn you, you old fool!" Ed mentally pounded himself as he kicked at the man's leg in front of him. Images of his daughter in Joe's hands flared in front of him and he once again kicked at the dead man's legs. "This is all your fault! You made a fool o' me and you dared touch my daughter!" His boot flew again of its own accord and he found his rage welling up as he smashed a fist into the dead man's face. "You filthy excuse for a man!"

Finally he forced himself to stand up, his breath heaving in his chest. "That boy is more of a man than you ever were."

Becky had told him, in halting steps, how Joe had ridden to her defence and taken a beating on her behalf. Stan had at least a hundred pounds and almost a good foot in height on the boy and he'd still tackled the man, to save his daughter. Ed mentally kicked himself once again, knowing what he had done to the boy himself, albeit while thinking he was protecting his own child.

"I'll make it up to ya, son. I promise I will." Ed leaned down and hoisted the dead weight of the other man across his pack horse. He wanted to pummel his fists into the face again, but managed to restrain himself. He'd already done enough punching for one day.

* * *

Ben leaned back in the saddle and looked across at his sons. There was no sign of Joe anywhere he should have been. While none of them had voiced it, each of them was more concerned than they had initially let on. Joe could be tardy when something else caught his attention, but he would not willingly be this late without good cause. The fact he had been trying so hard lately to prove how responsible he was only added to the concern. He knew that if he had skipped off somewhere on a lark, then his newfound label of responsibility would be very quickly revoked.

"Where to next, Pa?" Adam pulled his hat off and scratched at his forehead. There was enough moonlight to make out the surrounding area, but certainly not enough to track by. That would have to wait until morning and they all knew it.

"Into town. See if that youngest brother of yours decided he needed to stop off somewhere else on the way home."

As Ben nudged his horse forward, he heard his sons pull into line alongside him. Neither of them were fooled by his comment, but he had to hold onto the hope that Joe had fallen back into old habits and really was just somewhere he shouldn't be. He didn't want to consider the alternative just yet.

* * *

Roy Coffee locked the cell door behind him and hung the key on the far wall. He'd had more than enough of the single occupant of the cell and was thoroughly tired of the three brothers. Since they'd arrived in town, they'd broken up the saloon several times, been in more fistfights than he could count and generally riled up the majority of the other cowpokes for several miles around. Ben had warned him, as had a few other ranchers, that the three were nothing but trouble. The one currently gracing his jail cell had been fired only hours before and had spent the last of his wages on a bender in the saloon before getting into a drunken brawl. He'd be nursing a fine hangover in the morning and Roy knew he'd probably be mopping out the cell at some point too. He left the adjoining door open in case he needed to hear from his prisoner.

He stopped in front of the coffee pot and swirled the dregs around before reaching for a mug. There was enough there to make a half way decent mug if he didn't mind a few grounds in it. He was too tired to bother on a fresh pot and poured the black liquid into his well-used tin mug. He figured it was hot and strong enough to get him through another hour or so. Before he could turn back to his desk, the door pushed open and Ed Longman strode into the room. Roy was surprised to see him in town at this time of night, as his daughter would be home alone.

"Ed? Somethin' I can do for you?"

"Roy, I got me a body out there. Need you to take the piece of filth off my hands."

"You killed him, Ed?" Roy looked across at the man, stunned at the possibility his own question could be true. Ed was known as a normally peaceable man who kept to himself and ran his ranch. Never had Roy known the man to be in any kind of trouble before. Still, as a lawman, he had to ask the question.

"Nope. Little Joe Cartwright did that for me. Shot him in the gut, but I wish I'd gotten there first!"

Both the response and the venom behind it shocked Roy and he shook his head as if he'd not heard correctly.

"Little Joe! What are ya talkin' about? Joe don't even carry a gun, Ed. Ben won't let him yet."

Ed scrubbed a hand across his jaw and pointed a thumb towards the door. "Come with me, Roy and I'll explain all you need to know." He was already moving towards the door as Roy followed along behind him.

"Just who is it?"

"Stan Hamilton. My ex ranch hand!"

The two men moved out the door while Roy's prisoner pulled himself upright on his bunk. His head wobbled on his shoulders as the sour taste of whiskey gurgled up his throat. He'd heard his brother's name alongside that Cartwright brat, but his mind swirled in a sea of alcohol. As he dropped back to the thin mattress beneath him, he belched loudly and rolled over to go to sleep. His brothers could deal with the brat. After all, they'd deserted him when the sheriff had hauled him in again.

Ed stood in front of his horse as Roy inspected the body draped over the pack horse. He rolled the rough trail blanket back over the man's face and pointed across the street.

"Bring him across to the undertaker and we'll talk some more then."

Ed unhooked his horse's reins and nudged the animal across the street to the building where Roy was already hammering on the door. The mousey looking man that answered just nodded at the body and instructed them to bring him inside. It was a reasonably efficient process, given the cause of death was rather obvious, but Ed still felt his guts churning at the amount of dried blood on the body and across the blanket. Becky said Joe had wrestled with the man to get a grip on the gun and he sucked in a sharp breath. He could just as easily be delivering Joe's body to the sheriff and his mind would not allow him to go to the possibilities of where his daughter might be.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt Roy steering him outside and back across the street. He had no idea what the man was saying about not talking inside the jailhouse, but he dropped onto the step in front of him and his head fell forward into his hands. Roy stood and waited as he pulled himself together.

"What happened, Ed? And where's Joe?"

Ed swallowed a gulp of air as he thought about both questions. "I'm a fool, that's what happened! I left my daughter in the hands of a snake!"

Roy had been at the wedding, the same as most of the town and he'd seen Joe and Becky on the dancefloor. He'd even nudged Ben a time or two and commented on his chances of red-headed grandchildren. Ben had glared back at him and declared his son far too young to be thinking anything of the sort. Roy had nodded and smiled and moved on to another conversation topic. He couldn't reconcile the memory with Ed's comment and yet he couldn't bring himself to believe that Little Joe had killed a man either. He waited for the father to go on.

"I took on that … that _animal_ and he attacked my daughter. Thank God that Joe came past when he did or …" Ed found his breath caught in his throat as he tried to continue on. His daughter's hesitant retelling of her trauma made his fists clench again in rage. "He saved my Becky and I repaid him by hitting him!"

"Ed, you ain't makin' a whole lotta sense. Now what exactly happened to young Becky? And why'd you hit Joe?"

Before he could respond, the two of them were interrupted by three horses pulling up to the hitching rail. As Ben and his sons dismounted, Ed was on his feet and reaching a hand towards his friend.

"Ben, if you're here to lay charges, I totally understand. I lost my temper and I'm real sorry about it. Joe didn't deserve none of it and I'll tell him to his face tomorrow."

"Charges? What are you talking about, Ed? And where's my son?"

Ed stepped back as the three men in front of him seemed to move as a cohesive group towards him.

"I just figured that Little Joe came and told you what I did to him. I'm sorry, Ben, but my Becky was crying and her dress was all torn up and I just … I just hit him."

Ben felt like his heart had stopped beating as the details did nothing to calm his rising fear. He felt the solid presence of his two sons behind him and he somehow managed to keep a lid on his anger as he spoke.

"Ed, I have no idea what you are talking about! Joseph didn't come home tonight and now you tell me he hurt your daughter! I simply don't believe that."

Roy had a hand on Ben's chest and edged himself between the two fathers. "Now Ben, he ain't sayin' that at all. Just hear him out and we can sort this all out."

"Then what exactly is he saying?"

"Ben, my daughter was attacked, but not by Joe!" He rushed to assure the three men before him. "In fact, he intervened. Saved her. He shot dead the monster that done it." As emotion took over and he found himself struggling to speak, Ben leaned in again.

"What! Joe doesn't carry a gun!"

Once again, Roy placed a hand on his friend's chest and held him still as Ed continued on. "Ben, Becky herself said Joe done it, but she said it was self defence. He grabbed Hamilton's gun from his holster 'cause he was bein' choked to death."

Ben felt a sound roaring in his ears.

Self defence.

Those words were used in front of a jury. His son was old enough to be tried in front of a jury. Joe's own adamant words came back to hit him full force. His son was a man and could be tried as a man.

"Roy … where is my son?"


	3. Chapter 3

Everything in me wanted Joe to just run for home, but where's the fun (or the story) in that? Thank you for coming along for the ride and for sharing your thoughts and comments.

 **Chapter Three**

He had no idea what time it was or even where he was. In his haste to escape the confines of the Longman's home, Joe had simply given Cochise his head and let the reins hang loosely in his fingers. He leaned low over his horse's neck and allowed the miles to disappear beneath the animal's hooves. Every fibre of his body ached and the dull rhythm of Cochise's stride seemed to settle into his bones. His heart had finally settled to a respectable beat and he had simply held on for the ride. There was no way to know how much time had passed, but he did know that his horse was tiring and he needed to stop. There was enough moonlight to give him some idea of the area he was traveling through and he finally pulled up in a small, rocky gully that was sheltered on three sides. As he slid down from the saddle, the actions were almost instinctual rather than thought through. He had spent most of his life in the saddle, whether in front of his father or brothers or on his own mount. His horse needed tending and he had been raised to care for his horse's needs, no matter what.

 _Always take care of your horse and it could save a life. Maybe your own._

His father's oft-repeated words echoed in his ear and he almost gagged on the memory. Cochise had undoubtedly saved his life this night, but he wasn't sure that was what his father had in mind when drumming the edict into his sons.

As he pulled the saddle free and laid out his saddlebag on the ground near his feet, he tugged at the canteen on the ground. He shook it, remembering it was around half full last time he checked it. With no idea where there was any water nearby, he knew he needed to ration it, but Cochise certainly needed water after their wild ride. As he tipped some of the liquid into his hat and held it out for the horse to drink, he almost smiled at Cochise's enthusiastic response.

"Sorry there isn't any more. At least you got some grass to chew on over there."

As he nudged the horse away from him, he knelt down to sort through what kind of provisions he might have for himself in his saddlebag. He pulled his jacket out and thanked whatever had made him stash it in there earlier that day. The small leather saddlebag was only intended to carry his needs for the day and as such, wasn't a lot of use. There were always matches in any saddlebag on any horse on the Ponderosa and he held the box in his hand, wondering if he dared make a fire or not. He was fairly sure that Becky's father had not been pursuing him, but he shoved the box back in the bag as he shook his head. He wasn't ready to take a chance on being discovered just yet. Not until he'd had some time to think and work out some kind of plan of action.

As Joe fumbled around inside the bag, knowing without seeing what he grasped at, he almost sobbed in despair. A small knife, a handful of fencing nails, a hammer and a half-eaten sandwich from lunch combined with the rope looped around his saddle horn weren't going to get him very far. As his fingers brushed against a forgotten apple buried in the bottom, he laughed bitterly.

"Well I guess I got me a whole feast in there after all!"

The laughter quickly died as he sagged back against the rock and sucked in a sharp breath. He felt the pain of deep bruising and battered muscles as he pulled his knees up to his chin, but he was beyond caring. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the dull ache in his chest. The reality of his situation was beginning to sink in and he closed his eyes and leaned his head on his arms.

" _Get out of here, boy, before I blow your head off!"_

Joe jolted his head up and almost scrambled to his feet before realising it was just a memory. Becky's irate father wasn't really standing in front of him, ready to put a bullet through his skull. Cochise snorted at the sudden movement before going back to grazing on the limited grass.

"They'll never believe me!"

Joe slowly settled back against the rock and stared up into the night sky. The moon was almost at its fullest and the smattering of clouds did little to hide the stars overhead.

"Nobody will believe me." The whisper was almost a plea to the heavens and Joe squeezed his eyes closed to stop the tears of frustration that threatened. Maybe if he'd gone home in the first place. Maybe then, his father would have listened and intervened with the sheriff. But instead he'd run and just proven his guilt to everybody, including his own family. Just like Becky's father didn't wait to hear the reasons, he could hear the shouts of the posse as they rounded him up and threw a rope over the nearest tree. He'd heard stories of what posses could do and the worst of them crowded into his head like a cattle stampede.

The night was not chilly, but Joe's whole body trembled as he finally dropped into an exhausted sleep, wedged up against the rock face. By the time he awoke with the first rays of the sun, his mind had run through an extensive list of nightmare scenarios and any thoughts of going home were totally erased. He felt his stomach churning as he tried to squash down the various things he had dreamed of that all ended with both of his brothers face down and dead in the dirt.

It was a simple exercise to break camp as there wasn't really any kind of camp to speak of. Or it would have been simple on any other day when he wasn't cramped and aching from head to toe. Cochise had only wandered a little in the search for grass and he quickly returned at Joe's shrill whistle. The feel of the horse's soft muzzle against his cheek almost brought fresh tears as Joe considered that he could possibly never again feel his father's hand on his cheek. He had already quietly decided it would be worth the cost if it kept his brothers safe. Stan Hamilton's brothers could not be allowed to fulfill his dying threats.

As Joe pulled himself up into the saddle, he stuffed the ends of his torn shirt into his waistband and tried to ignore the brown tinge to his hands. He needed to find water and wash off the evidence before anybody saw him.

It would be several hours before the muted sounds of water tumbling over onto rocks caught his attention. He groaned at how much his body had stiffened and seemed to mold itself to the saddle in the short time he'd been riding. Sharp pain streaked up his side as his abused ribs objected to him sliding down to the ground. It took a moment to steady himself against the solid horse and the dizziness gradually subsided. Without having to be told what to do, Cochise walked forward into the stream and began taking his fill while Joe leaned in also and filled his canteen. After pushing the stopper back into place and dropping it onto a nearby rock, he slowly stripped off his shirt and tossed it along with his hat onto the same rock. The chill of the water brought goosebumps to his skin as he slowly began to wash away the dried blood and grime that seemed to have worked its way into every pore. His lower lip began to bleed sluggishly as the swollen skin split apart again and he washed the blood away with another swish of cold water. Bruised flesh objected loudly to his efforts and finally Joe decided he was clean enough. As he stood and stretched for his shirt, he wondered how long it would be before he could move again without hurting.

* * *

Ben sat at the table and stared at the mug of coffee in front of him. Hoss leaned up against the doorframe and Adam had deposited himself on the edge of the hearth. He knew that none of them had slept a wink the night before as each of them had waited up to see if Joe made it home. The rest of Ed Longman's confession had come out and Ben had been caught between wanting to plant his fist in his friend's face and knowing that the father had only reacted to what he saw. If Ben had a daughter, he knew that no doubt he'd have done the same thing. Across the table from him, the object of their collective concern was trying valiantly to fill in the blanks for their questions.

Becky's face was deeply bruised down one side and her eye was beginning to blacken. Her knuckles were grazed and her left hand was wrapped in a bandage. He could only guess at the injuries that were hidden under the folds of her robe and Ben allowed himself a moment of pride to know his son had stopped a far worse injury to the young girl. She would at least recover from the bruises and scrapes, given time.

"Do you have any idea where Joe planned to go?" Ben had tried the question in several ways already and was getting nowhere.

"He … he wasn't really planning anything 'sfar as I could tell. He just said he had to get away and keep his brothers safe. He said no-one'd believe him."

Becky glanced across the table before her eyes dropped to the table again. "I'm sorry Mister Cartwright … I tried to make him stay … but … well …"

"But I drove him out of here!" Ed slammed his fist on the table and Becky startled before bursting into tears. He quickly moved to wrap an arm around her shoulder, apologizing profusely as he did so.

Ben waited until she had calmed a little before pushing again. "Becky, I don't understand. Why does Joe think his brothers are in any kind of danger? They had nothing to do with any of it."

The girl sniffed and rubbed a hand across her face as if willing herself to stop crying.

"He … that … that man …" Becky sucked in a breath as her father gently squeezed her shoulder. "He said that … his brothers will take away Joe's brothers. That they'd take an eye for an eye. Mister Cartwright … Joe believed him … and so did I." Once again the girl dissolved into tears as she recalled the threats and the venom in the man's dying words.

"Pa, I think Joe's crossed paths with them fellas a coupla times already." Hoss moved closer to the table as he spoke.

"They came out to the Ponderosa looking for work and Joe told them we didn't have anything going at present. They didn't take too kindly to it, but Joe wouldn't tell me what they said to him. He seemed to shrug it off. Are you telling me he spoke to them again after that day?" Ben frowned as he considered how rattled Joe had been in his own yard, the first time he'd seen the three men. With events unfolding as they were, he wished he'd pushed the point at the time.

"I don't rightly know for sure, but somethin' was sure eatin' at Joe the other day when I mentioned 'em. He clammed right up."

"A sure sign that something was going on and he didn't want us to know about it." Adam shook his head as he wished he'd prodded a little harder when Hoss had brought his suspicions to him. He'd wanted to allow Joe to come to them if he chose to and now he wished he'd just pushed like he once would have. At least if Joe had blown up in his face, the issue could have been exposed.

"So let me get this right … you think that Joe believes Hamilton's brothers will take revenge for his death on you two?"

"Yes!" Becky nodded emphatically. She stared at Hoss before glancing across to where Adam was. "It's why he ran. He said he needed to protect you. If nobody knew it was him who shot their brother, then they had no reason to come after you."

"Damn fool kid!" Hoss muttered to himself.

"Mister Cartwright." Becky swallowed a sob as she looked at him once again. "You have to find him soon. He's hurt. I don't know how bad … but he's hurt."

With more hope than he really felt, Ben reached a hand across the table and smiled as he patted the back of her hand. "Don't worry. We'll have him home by nightfall. We'll head into town and get some help. Now you just rest up young lady and don't you worry about Little Joe."

As the trio headed for the door, Ed followed them outside. "I'm so sorry, Ben. I just lost my head and now …"

"Ed, if that were my daughter in there, I'd have shot first and punched later." He slapped his friend on the shoulder before climbing up into the saddle. "Don't worry, we'll find him. He can't have gotten too far especially if he's in rough shape."

Hoss gripped at the reins as he turned his horse away from the hitching rail. Becky's plea kept ringing in his ears as he kicked his horse into motion. His brother was somewhere out there alone and frightened and she had said he was hurt. It was all he could do to contain a growl of anger at the thought.

As they headed out of the yard and onto the open road, none of them was half as confident in Ben's words as he had claimed to be. It would be hours later before plans had been laid, supplies had been collected and men had been dispersed. Wires went out to surrounding towns to keep an eye out for a pinto and a young rider, but none of it would be enough until Ben had his youngest son safe in his home once again.

* * *

Roy signed off on the last of the paperwork and handed it back to the undertaker.

"Them brothers of his never came back to see about buryin' him?"

"Nope. Just came in to check it was him and ask how he died. Guess it's gonna be Boot Hill, just as soon as I can get Jed in ta dig me a hole."

Roy nodded as he chewed on his lower lip. He didn't bother explaining his concern to the man that the two brothers had left his jail that morning looking like thunder. The one he had known would be nursing a hangover looked just as dark as his brother after he'd shared the information he'd picked up the night before. Roy had hoped he'd been too drunk to hear Ed's story, but he realised enough had gotten through and they both knew their brother was shot dead. The eldest of the trio had dragged his younger brother out into the street while vowing vengeance on whoever had left their middle brother in the undertaker's hands.

Roy had followed them out with a warning to allow the law to investigate and resolve what had happened. Muttered threats and surly looks did nothing to relieve his concerns. As he reflected on Ben's retelling of events, he decided it was beginning to look as though Joe might have been right to take Hamilton's threats seriously after all. Roy prayed that any of the men searching would find the boy before either of the dead man's brothers did and he pulled himself up into his saddle to join them as the last group headed out. Dozens of men had stepped up when Adam had walked into the saloon and several more showed up after Hoss had been to the mercantile. On Roy's advice, Ben had kept the information limited and simply stated that Joe was injured and probably disoriented. He'd ignored the concerned comments about what had happened and just urged the men to find his son. As quickly as possible.

* * *

Cochise picked a way along the streambed as Joe urged him to stay in the water. It went against his instincts, but the animal responded to the rider and continued on until Joe found a rocky enough place to climb out. As the horse found his feet and climbed up the gentle slope, he smiled a little as he noted the ground beneath them.

"Even Hoss'd have a hard time tracking through here."

As he congratulated himself on his escape route, Joe felt a sudden sense of wild anger rising up through his gut. He knew his brother would be out looking for him and he choked down the fear that Hoss was a better tracker than almost anybody he knew. His anger boiled up again as he remembered all the times Hoss had taught him to track and by doing so, how to hide his tracks as well. Never in his life had he thought he would be using his own brother's tricks to hide from him.

"Don't you find me, Hoss! Don't you dare!" The absurdity of it all made him want to scream in frustration. Instead he pushed his horse onwards and hoped to clear the ridge by the time the noonday sun was overhead.


	4. Chapter 4

I have often said that reviews and comments make their way into my stories. Thank you to BJ2 for your comment, as it was part of the inspiration for this chapter.

 **Chapter Four**

Adam found his thoughts going back around the same track as they had been for the better part of the day. Each of them had assumed it would be a reasonably straightforward exercise to follow the tracks out of Ed Longman's yard, given that he'd said Joe was riding out at a full gallop. The soft ground was all torn up and the trail had taken them a fair way before it began to peter out. Each time, Hoss would search it out until he picked it up again and they would continue on. Adam had given his younger brother the lead as it was acknowledged within the family that Hoss was by far the best tracker of any of them. As he'd ridden behind, expecting to find his youngest brother holed up somewhere, he'd found himself swinging between fear and frustration. The longer they took searching, the bigger the pendulum swings became. For the better part of the afternoon, frustration had won out, but as it became clear that Joe had learned a thing or two from Hoss on how to cover his trail, fear was beginning to creep ahead again.

For sixteen years he had worried over his brother, even, or maybe especially during his time away at college. While he'd also watched over Hoss, something about Joe was different. Hoss could usually figure his own way through things. Of course, he could always fight his own battles too. Adam could count on one hand the number of times he'd been needed to help Hoss out of a fight or some scrape he'd gotten himself into. Unless of course it was the kind of scrape that Joe had dragged his gullible older brother into and that was a whole other story. Adam had stepped in more than once and put himself between his father and brothers until his father had calmed down and the steam had stopped running from his ears. Adam sighed as he realised he could not count the number of times he'd had to step in on Joe's behalf. Joe's quick temper often found him in places where his body paid the price. To give him his due, he'd usually accepted the consequences of his decisions, but Adam had often remarked that if he just used his head half as much as he used his tongue, he'd come out in front more often.

" _You're a smart kid, Joe, but you just don't always use that brain of yours! Imagine what you could achieve if you started to think before you acted."_

How many times had he said something along those lines to his kid brother? How many times had Joe snarled back at him with some angry or sarcastic response? Adam pushed his hat back down on his head and glanced up the river a little to where Hoss was standing. It seemed that Joe had finally decided to engage that brain of his and had outsmarted them. His trail had gone cold and Hoss was standing with one hand on his hip and the other scratching his head in frustration.

"Oh yeah, you're a real smart kid, Joe! Why'd you have to pick today to start proving me wrong?"

Adam looked up to see his father watching him and he tried to smile in reassurance.

"It seems your brother really was paying attention to all those tracking lessons." Ben shook his head as he noted Hoss coming back towards them.

"If only he'd paid attention to a few other lessons … like the one where this family sticks together!" Adam growled, almost under his breath.

"He's scared, Adam. And for all that he thinks he's done growing up … he's still just a boy who has been thrust into a very adult situation." Ben leaned across his saddle horn and tried to keep his voice calm. "And the first adult he could have turned to for help only added to his confusion."

"Pa, Ed feels real bad about what he did."

"I know that, Son. But it doesn't change the impact it would have had on Little Joe. Put yourself in his boots for a minute. Remember how shaken you were the first time you had to kill a man? And how old you were."

Adam felt his hands clench around the reins as he slowly nodded. Hoss was listening intently as he reached his horse and knew that he'd interrupted something important.

"And Hoss has never been in that situation, although he's come close."

Hoss leaned against his horse as he took in the comment.

"Adam, I was right there beside you and you were still on your knees in the dirt once it was all over. Killing a man ... taking a life ... is a weight that it takes a man to bear. Joe rightly defended himself and Becky, but it doesn't change how heavy that weight is. Or how young he is."

Adam sucked in a slow breath as the memory of that far-off day twisted in his gut. His father had tried to shelter him, but in the end they'd both been forced to fire on the rustlers that had caught them by surprise. His father had pulled him up off the ground once he'd emptied his stomach all over his boots. It never got any easier to take a life and he knew his father was speaking the truth. Little Joe had a weight on his shoulders that could break him.

"Now add on the fact that Ed fired on him and I'm not the least bit surprised that he ran. He's scared and confused and hurt. On top of all that, he thinks his brothers are going to pay the price for his actions." Ben held up a hand to forestall Adam's argument. "Now we know that isn't going to happen, but your brother doesn't. No matter how much he might say things that rile you up, he loves you Adam. He looks up to you and half the reason he fights with you so much is because he doesn't feel he can ever measure up to you. You and Hoss … if it came down to it … he'd …"

Adam leaned a hand across as his father's voice ran out of words. He couldn't open his mouth for fear of giving his own fears any kind of voice, but he squeezed his father's arm and nodded.

" _God, help us to find him!"_

Hoss pulled himself back into the saddle and pointed across the water. "We need to try that side o' the river. I'll bet good money that he walked in the water for a time."

Before either of them could answer, Hoss had turned his horse for the riverbank and they simply followed suit. As he scoured the ground for any sign of his brother, he couldn't help but mull over his father's comments. He'd drawn his gun alongside his father and brother any time there'd been a need, but his father was right. He'd never killed a man. He'd winged a couple and accidentally shot one in the thigh, but he'd never seen the light leave a man's eyes on account of him. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd cope with that fact when the inevitable time came. It was impossible to think that he could make it through his life without facing that reality at some point. He shuddered as he thought about his young brother staring into a man's lifeless eyes and he vowed he'd find him and bring him home if it was the last thing he did.

The sun was hanging low in the sky and sunset was drawing closer. Ben didn't want to consider his boy spending another night out alone, cold and hungry and injured. As they climbed back up onto the far bank, he noted the dark clouds gathering low on the horizon. Rain was coming.

* * *

Joe's stomach growled loudly and he tried to ignore it as he had been doing all day. The stale half sandwich and apple were long gone already. Water could only fill the hole for so long and he took another long, slow draught from the canteen. He had nothing to run a snare with and he'd left the river behind some time ago. He'd been too busy trying to put distance between himself and whoever might be following him that he didn't have time to try his luck at fish tickling. As he slung the canteen back over the saddle horn and pushed Cochise forward again, he noted the ominous clouds gathering on the horizon. He needed to find shelter for the night or it was going to be an even more miserable night than the night before.

It was almost dark when he trudged into the small town and he was glad of the cover that kept prying eyes from taking note of him. He hadn't wanted to make contact with anybody, but it was a chance he'd have to take if he was going to find shelter and any kind of meal before the storm hit. Cochise's head was down and he knew he'd pushed the horse harder than he should have.

"Sorry Cooch." He reached down and patted the animal's neck as he pulled up in front of the livery. He didn't have so much as a single coin in his pocket, but Adam had told him more than once that he had no shortage of charm. He pulled his jacket close around his chest to hide his torn shirt and pulled his hat a little lower to cover the bruises on his face. The dim light would hopefully work to his advantage and he climbed down to the ground, praying for success.

As he tugged at Cochise's reins and headed for the door, he called out to see if anybody was around. He was looking the wrong way and almost missed the giant of a man who walked around the other side of the stable, wiping his hands on his leather apron. As he turned back, he found himself staring at the barrel chest of a man who would put Hoss in the shade.

"Somethin' I can do for ya?"

Joe swallowed hard as he dared to look up a little further and make eye contact with the giant. Childhood memories of his father reading the story of David and Goliath swam around his head and he gulped again. At that moment his stomach let out a growl like a bear and the giant laughed. A full on belly laugh like Hoss had and for a moment, Joe almost relaxed.

"I guess we better get that horse o' yours stabled afore you go and eat him! Sounds ta me like you could eat a horse, young fella!" As the giant rested a hand along Cochise's neck and scratched behind his ears, he laughed again. "You're too pretty a thing for him ta be eatin'!"

Joe smiled at the comment before quickly sobering again. He didn't have so much as a penny to his name and liveries weren't charities. Thinking on his feet, he stepped forward again.

"You're right. I do need to put up my horse for the night … but there's a problem."

"Don't tell me … you're wanted by the law!"

Joe stared at the man in the fading light and knew that a wire could have reached the town, warning them that a murderer was on his way. Before he could answer, the giant laughed at him.

"I'm teasin', boy! My wife says my jokes ain't funny. Guess maybe she's right."

Joe pulled himself together and tried to decide whether to nod or disagree. Finally he settled for starting over. "My problem is that I don't have any money … but I'm willing to work for my horse's fee! I'm good with horses."

"Is that so?" The giant seemed to be giving him the once over and Joe barely managed not to flinch. "Well, how's about you show me just how good ya are with horses and I'll see about whether or not I wantcha earnin' your keep."

Before he could speak, the giant had tugged at Cochise's reins and pulled the horse into an empty stall. He pointed to the end of the livery where there were an assortment of brushes and other tools.

"Show me how good ya are with horses."

As Joe hefted the saddle over the railing and flopped the blanket on top of it, the giant watched as the young man in front of him went about brushing down his horse. The hands that stroked at the animal showed his affection for the horse and he smiled to himself. The horse was good, strong horseflesh and he noted the brand across his hind leg. It wasn't one he recognised, but that didn't mean much. Something about the young man held his attention and he watched closely before realising what it was. He was injured and trying to hide it. The split lip and bruises on his cheek had barely been hidden by a dipped brim on his hat, but it was more than that. He was favouring his left side and he would have bet good money the boy was bruised under that green jacket of his.

"So, what's a young fella like you doin' out on his lonesome?"

Joe paused a fraction as his breath caught in his throat. "Just passing through."

"Headin' for home? Family waitin' for ya?"

"No. There's no family waiting for me." Joe clenched his fist around the brush as he continued brushing the dirt and sweat out of Cochise's coat and he swallowed down the ache his own words dragged up.

The giant leaned against the post as he watched the boy in front of him. He knew he was being lied to. That horse was an expensive animal. In spite of the dirty state he was in, the boy was wearing quality clothes and boots. He clearly cared for the animal he was riding so he hadn't stolen it from someone. And yet he was penniless, hungry and hurt. Something didn't add up and he wasn't one for mysteries.

"My name's Tiny, by the way. Whadda they call you, where ya from?"

"Tiny?" Joe almost laughed before he thought better of it.

"Yeah well some folks think they is right funny. I think I mighta been born this size, 'cept the doc says that ain't possible. Real name's Jacob, but ain't been called that by nobody since my ma passed on."

Tiny noted that the boy hadn't answered his question and he tried again.

"So, what's your ma call you, young'un?"

"Ain't got a ma."

Tiny noticed how the boy paused, before continuing to brush at the horse again.

"Your pa then? What's he call ya?"

Joe felt his gut churning as he considered the various things his pa called him and the one that stood out was the one that hurt the most.

Son.

"I'm sorry, Pa." Tiny never heard the whispered words, but he caught the shaky hand that paused again, mid stroke. "Joe. He called me Joe."

Called. Past tense.

Tiny figured he was pushing his luck and he walked over to pat at Cochise again. "Well, Joe, I'd say ya do know a thing or two 'bout horses. You can make yourself useful and rub down those three over there. When you're done, there's oats in there for alla them. Your horse too. You're welcome to bed down in the back there for the night, seein' as you're just passin' through."

Joe nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! I can do that. And … thanks."

Tiny wandered back out into the darkness, wondering just what he'd taken in and more to the point, what his Annie would have to say about it. After all, it wasn't the first stray he'd taken in and the last one had bitten him.

Joe waited until Tiny had left before stripping off his jacket and hat and setting to work. There might not be any coin in the job, but there was shelter from the storm and food for Cochise. His horse would be ready to go on the next day and he'd worry about food for himself then.

The sound of thunder rolling in overhead had the horses on edge. Joe stepped into the last stall and poured a measure of oats into the feed trough before reaching for the bucket of water on the ground. As he began to pour the water in, a loud clap of thunder caused the horse to prance sideways and knock the bucket out of his hands. Water sloshed across his shirt and down onto his boots. Joe barely had time to grab at the bucket before it toppled over into the next stall. He muttered something as he traipsed back outside to refill the bucket and watched as fat drops of rain began to hit the ground. He hurried across to the trough and dipped the bucket in and raced back across the street, trying to get inside before the storm burst.

It would be another half hour before Joe had the three horses in their stalls with oats and water and he leaned against the railing that separated him from Cochise. As the horse finished off his meal, Joe stared at the grain left behind. The oaty scent reminded him of the thick, creamy porridge that Hop Sing made in winter and he lowered his head down onto the railing. There was no Hop Sing, no porridge and nothing but a dank patch of straw for a bed. His body ached and he itched at the still-damp fabric of his shirt. Finally he stripped it off and hung it over the railing to dry off. As he pushed a pile of straw into the corner, he didn't hear anything coming from behind him until Tiny swore out aloud. Joe spun around to see the giant of a man staring at him. Rain dripped off his slicker and he held something underneath it that Joe couldn't see.

Scrambling to pull his shirt back on and get away from the man in front of him, Joe found himself backed into a corner. Tiny slowly advanced towards him, revealing a plate of food and a blanket under the slicker.

"My Annie sent me back with this 'fore ya." Tiny slowly reached out with the plate and Joe caught a whiff of meat and potatoes. His stomach growled in anticipation and he couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted to. As he settled onto a hay bale and began to wolf down the food, he found himself the object of intense scrutiny.

"Who done that to ya, boy?" The growl in Tiny's voice reminded Joe of Hoss when he was riled up. Not that Hoss got riled all that often, but when he did, it was wise to get out of his way. Joe tried to shake off the thought and kept shoveling food into his mouth.

"Fell off my horse," he said around a mouthful of beef.

"Sure ya did." Tiny stepped closer and pointed to Joe's split lip. "Right into someone's fists."

"It don't matter," Joe looked at his feet as he wiped up the last of the potato with a slice of bread.

Tiny leaned closer, trying not to intimidate the boy in front of him. "Who hurt ya, boy?"

Joe could barely breathe. "Leave it be … please!"

Tiny straightened up and nodded slowly. "If that's what ya want, boy. Now, my Annie's 'spectin' me back already."

As he made his way back out into the darkness, Tiny wondered if he'd ever see the boy again or if he'd make a run for it in the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you for your ongoing interest and encouragement. It's always appreciated.

 **Chapter Five**

Adam watched as Hoss poked at the fire and added a few more pieces of wood to keep it going. He lay stretched out on his bedroll and he noted that nobody had said more than three words in a row since they had eaten supper. It seemed that each of them were too busy listening to their own thoughts and doubts and conversation seemed superfluous. His father had pulled his blanket over his shoulder some time before, yet Adam knew he wasn't asleep. The rigid set of his shoulders betrayed him and Adam knew exactly what his father was doing. As he stared blindly at the rockface of the small overhang they had camped under, Ben was wondering where his youngest son was and if he was safe or cold, wet and hungry. Adam knew with certainty that was what his father was thinking because the same thought was going through his own head. He was absolutely certain that Hoss' sudden need to tend the fire had little to do with the fire and more to do with needing to keep his hands busy and his wayward thoughts under control.

Adam rolled onto his back and threaded his fingers together behind his head. The steady beat of the rain did nothing to ease his thoughts and he found his mind drifting. Ever since his pa had spoken about the first time he'd killed a man, the memory had taunted him. He'd seen his fair share of gunplay and had backed his father and older ranch hands many times, but he was almost twenty-one the first time he knew for certain that a bullet of his had actually done more than wound a man. The finality of it had been so confronting and he had second-guessed himself for weeks afterward, questioning if he could have done something differently. In their travels across the country, Adam had learned early how to handle a gun as his father had taught him out of necessity, but there had always been others such as the wagon train master and other men to take the brunt of any problems. As a youth, he had usually been in the second line of defence, alongside the women who could shoot. As they had carved out their own stake in the new Nevada territory there had been times where Adam had stood shoulder to shoulder with his father when squatters or others had come along. He couldn't tell if it was more by good luck than anything else, but his father could usually talk his way out of most confrontations and even when he couldn't, there were always others like Roy Coffee to stand beside him.

By the time Hoss was the same age, there wasn't the same need and he had been older before he'd been entrusted with learning to handle a weapon. Joe had desperately wanted to learn from a young age to keep pace with his brothers and once their father had finally agreed, he'd proven a natural, despite being left handed. That only seemed to worry Ben even more and Adam almost smiled as he remembered Joe's pride in hitting every target that his older brothers set up for him, including the ones they tossed into the air. Their father would have had a fit if he'd known that small detail and Joe had been more than willing to keep the secret between the three of them. For some reason he could not define, Adam had felt a sense of urgency that Joe did need to know how to defend himself in spite of his father's assurances that they were no longer traveling through wild country and Joe needed no such thing. As he stared at the cold rock over his head, Adam wondered if he had helped his brother or put him in the very situation his father had wanted to avoid. If he hadn't given Joe the confidence to handle a gun so well, would he have shot dead Stan Hamilton? Would his sixteen year old brother be safely asleep in his own bed where he should be instead of God only knew where? The question chewed at his insides with such ferocity that he found his hand stretched over his chest. As he tried to calm his heart rate once again, he recalled Becky's words and knew that if Joe hadn't pulled that trigger, they could quite likely be burying the two youngsters instead. As the rain grew heavier and his mind once again focused on it, he closed his eyes and tried to drown out the images that flooded his mind. Ugly pictures of his brother lying facedown somewhere in a puddle of muddy water would haunt his dreams as he finally gave in to his fatigue.

Somewhere not too far behind them, two men sat holed up in damp hollow under a dead tree. Their fire sputtered as rain blew in across it and the lukewarm canned beans for supper did nothing to improve either man's state of mind. It had been a simple matter to follow three riders across the land as none of them were making any effort to cover their tracks. The rain would possibly cause a few problems the next day, but neither man would quit until they had achieved their goal.

"You sure you know where they're camped tonight?"

"I told you already, I seen where they pulled up inside a nice little rock overhang, outta this damn rain. They won't be going nowhere 'til first light."

"Then don't sleep in!"

The younger of the two brothers rolled over and pulled his slicker a little higher up around his neck before pushing his hat as far down as he could. His muttered words were lost inside the depths of his hat, but his brother had a fair idea what curse had just been thrown his way.

* * *

Joe lay on his back and listened to the rain falling onto the old tin roof. He could make out where several holes allowed water through and he'd shifted back a little further to avoid one particularly persistent stream of water. The sound of thunder had rolled away some hours before, but he was no closer to falling asleep. Tiny's discovery of part of his secret made him feel unsettled and he wondered just what the big man would do tomorrow. Would his apparent concern turn to anger once he put some more pieces together? Would he go to the sheriff and ask the wrong questions, bringing the weight of the law down on his head? It was well into the early hours of the morning before Joe's body overrode his mind and he fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

As Annie poured her husband a second cup of coffee and dropped it on the hearth beside him, she watched as he pulled on his boots. She slowly turned and pushed the curtain aside and glanced at the weather outside. The storm from the night before had blown itself out and had left behind a steady drizzle of rain. The first hint of sun was rising over the rooftops and she turned back to where Tiny was pulling on his slicker.

"There's a plate warming in the oven."

"You really expect he's still gonna be there?"

"You don't?"

Tiny dropped his empty cup on the table and reached for a cloth to wrap up the plate. He hoped he was wrong, but he'd seen that look before. The frightened boy who had tried to stare him down the night before looked like a rabbit caught in a snare. He clenched his fists at the memory of the web of bruising down the boy's side and back. Despite his claim that he'd fallen off his horse, they both knew it was a lie. Somebody had laid into the boy and it was fairly obvious he was running from whoever that was. Tiny had mulled over his angry thoughts with his wife for the better part of two hours and come up with nothing. Something the boy had said suddenly dropped into his memory and Tiny turned to stare at Annie. He said there was no family waiting for him. His ma was dead or gone. His pa could also be dead if he was reading between the lines correctly. So where was he running to? Nothing was adding up. He sighed as he picked up the plate and kissed his wife on the cheek.

"I hope he's still there."

The laneway from his home to the livery was only a short distance and his long legs covered it easily. As the sun struggled to push through the drizzle, he felt the weather perfectly matched his mood.

* * *

 _The trio of faces shimmered before him and seemed to merge together into one terrifying black mass. As he crawled backwards in the mud, away from the threats and venom, he saw the shadow moving towards him. His voice died in his throat and he felt hands grasping at his arms. He tried to fight them off, but they gripped tighter. He heard someone calling his name and he tried to turn towards the voice._

"Pa!"

"Easy now, boy. I ain't gonna hurt ya."

"Pa!" Joe screamed as the arms pulled him upright and he threw a wild fist at his attacker.

Tiny wrapped both arms around the boy and held on until he shook himself fully awake. He could feel Joe's heart pounding against his own chest as he struggled to draw breath.

"Easy now. You're alright."

Joe found himself enveloped and for the briefest moment he thought Hoss had found him. Relief competed with fear as he tried to simply breathe. As light filtered through the door and he took note of his surrounds, it all came rushing back and he realised the arms that held him were not his brother's. Tiny slowly unwound his arms and allowed Joe to settle back against the straw. He dropped his gaze to the floor and tried to cover over the sheer terror that had held him captive only minutes before.

 _You're all alone._

 _They're all dead._

The ugly words from his dream caught in his throat and he struggled to breathe. The Hamilton brothers had caught up with his family and taken their revenge before hunting him down like some kind of animal. Words wafted over his head and it was another few minutes before he realised that Tiny was speaking to him. He shifted in the straw and tried to stand up, but his legs betrayed him.

"That was some dream you was havin'."

Colour was beginning to seep back into his face and Joe nodded as Tiny handed him a canteen of water. He allowed himself a long, slow drink and hoped that his hands had stopped shaking by the time he passed it back.

"Thanks."

"Wanna tell me what that was all about?' Tiny crouched in the straw in front of him as Joe vehemently shook his head.

"No!" If he recounted even one minute of it, he was afraid it would somehow come to life and the horrific images would become truth.

 _You're all alone._

 _They're all dead._

Joe shook himself once again and forced himself to stand up. "I'm fine."

"Oh yeah, fine as frog hair."

Joe flinched as the familiar phrase that would have made him laugh became a taunt to his fearful thoughts. Would he ever hear either of his brothers make the tired joke again?

"I need to get moving." Joe pushed away from the outstretched hand and made his way towards his horse's stall.

"Keep runnin', ya mean?"

Joe spun on his heel to glare at the man following behind him. The sight of him was so reminiscent of Hoss that he almost stopped breathing.

"I ain't running! I've got places to be."

Tiny decided he had nothing to lose and he stepped forward again. "Listen, it ain't no skin off my nose if you stay or go, but it seems to me there's a whole bucketloada reasons for ya to stay another day or so and not one that I can see in favour of ya runnin' outta here today."

"You don't know anything about me or what I should be doing." The response could have sounded defiant, but it just sounded defeated.

"Well … that ain't zactly true."

Joe looked up in alarm. Had some kind of information or wanted poster shown up?

"I can see that you're mighty sore and need a day or two to rest. It's also rainin' out there and it ain't no fun in the saddle without a slicker, which I know ya don't have. And that pretty little horse o' yours could do with a rest after ya near rode him into the ground."

Joe dropped his gaze as he considered the last point. He'd pushed hard and Cochise had given all he had, but he could not bear the thought of causing his horse to founder. Tiny knew he'd struck a nerve with his guess and he barely concealed a smile. The boy might not stop to think about himself, but his horse was a whole other deal.

"And one last thing."

Joe slowly looked up when the sentence remained hanging. "What last thing?"

Tiny reached across to pick up the plate from the bench and pulled off the cloth. "My Annie gets mighty miffed when folks don't eat her good cookin'. If you don't want these eggs and biscuits, I'm just gonna have to eat them so she don't get offended." He patted at his ample waist as he talked. "And my Annie says I eat too much already. But I just don't want ta end up puny."

Joe laughed in spite of himself. The final comment sounded so much like Hoss that the laugh almost became a sob, but he slowly stepped forward and took the plate that was held out towards him.

"Well, I can't offend Miss Annie, I guess."

"Good choice! She might be only half my size, but she still scares me with that wooden spoona hers!" Tiny winked at him as he began to laugh and Joe smiled as he considered the absurdity of the giant man being scared of his wife.

Tiny leaned up against the railing as he watched the boy eat. "I been thinkin'. I got me a pile of work next door, what with bent horseshoes and other things to keep me goin' all day. Whaddaya say to muckin' out these stalls and earnin' your keep in here today?"

Joe nodded enthusiastically as he finished off the last of the eggs. The idea of riding off into the rain held no appeal other than putting some more distance between him and the Hamilton brothers, but Tiny was right. Cochise needed a day to rest and truth be told, so did he. One day couldn't hurt since nobody would see him tucked away inside the livery. He'd allow them both a day to rest before heading off again. He had no idea where he was going to go, but he knew he couldn't stay put. The chill of the dream was still too real and he shivered in spite of himself.

The blacksmith pulled on his leather apron and began to head towards the door. He paused as he watched Joe gather up his blanket and fold it into a pile. He'd managed to keep the boy put for at least a day, but it wouldn't be long before he tried to run again. He just hoped he'd get somewhere with pulling a little more information that would help before that happened. The boy had called for his pa in the middle of his torment. Was he still alive after all? He frowned as he began to gather an armload of wood for the forge and tried again to put the fragmented pieces together.

Throughout the rest of the day, he pounded away at heated metal and pushed it into shape, but his mind was elsewhere. If the town had a telegraph line, he'd have wired the sheriff over in Carson City, but he didn't have that option. Somebody had to be looking for the boy. Somebody had to know what that brand was on his horse.

* * *

Hoss pulled his hat down and watched as water ran down across his chest and rolled down onto the ground. The slow drizzling rain was enough to be annoying, but the biggest problem was that it had washed away any kind of tracks. They were left completely at the mercy of guesswork and it had been a toss of the dice to decide which way to go. The three of them trawled along through the mud and rain as they made their way to Carson City. There were dozens of ranches in between and a hundred places Joe could have run to. With no firm leads to go on, Ben had elected to head for the larger town and send a wire to Roy Coffee, hoping and praying that Joe might have gone home.

* * *

"You damn fool! You've lost the trail!" If the two riders had been closer together, one of them might have found a fist in his face, but they were separated by a deep rut in the road that had filled with water.

"And you can still find it, I s'pose!"

"I was followin' you!"

"Well maybe you should quit followin' me and go find your own way! Ain't nobody twistin' your arm to stay with me!"

Merv glared at his brother and spat to the side of his horse before responding again. "We got us a job to finish first. That snot-nosed brat looked down his nose at us when he refused us a job. Then he shot down our brother, in case you forgot! He's gonna pay for that before we're done. Now, we need to figure out where those three got to so's we can find the brat."

"Got any ideas where they mighta gone? This mud's just swallowed up any kind of tracks and we can't keep traipsin' all over in the hope we find 'em."

Merv stared at his brother for a moment before nodding. "I got an idea." He urged his horse forward without having any real plan of where to head next. He just wouldn't give his brother the satisfaction of thinking he wasn't in control.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you so much for your lovely reviews and kind messages. As always, this story just takes on a life of its own and my ocs just about write themselves. I'm loving Tiny and I'm glad you seem to like him too. To my guest reviewer, please don't apologise for your English as I'm in awe of anybody who is bi-lingual. The effort for you to post a review is even more special.

 **Chapter Six**

The rain seemed to have set in and showed no sign of easing up any time soon. Mud had taken over the main street of his small town and Tiny would normally have found it annoying as he tried to keep his stable clean and dry. For once, he was grateful to see the thick clay mud and hoped it meant two things. It would bring travelers into his livery as they stayed put in town, thus bringing much-needed income and it would hopefully keep his new young friend from running away. He had managed to convince Joe to stay on for a while longer until the inclement weather eased up by offering him a job of sorts. In exchange for his efforts at keeping the stables mucked out, horses cared for and any other sundry jobs the blacksmith could come up with, his horse would be fed and so would he as well as earning a little coin on the side. A warm, dry bed was the final selling point and Joe had agreed, if not enthusiastically, at least he had seen the logic in the idea. Tiny felt a tinge of guilt as if he was taking advantage, but he knew the boy had no money on him and no other options.

He whistled as he pounded away at a new plough blade he was part way through bending into shape and could hear the sound of an axe on the other side of the wall. Whatever else he had come to surmise about the stray he'd taken in, someone had taught him a fine work ethic. The wood pile outside the smithy was looking far better than it had in recent weeks and he nodded approvingly as Joe piled more logs on top of the ones he'd already split. As Tiny plunged the heated plough share into a trough of water, it sizzled and spat water all over his apron. He laid it aside on a length of timber to cool and pulled a hood over the coals to damp them down for the night.

"Hey, Joe!"

The sound of the axe carried on and he smiled as he walked towards the outer door.

"Joe!"

"Yeah?" Joe dropped the axe beside the woodpile and grabbed a swig from the canteen as he walked back inside.

"How's about you go and see if my Annie's got supper ready yet? After all, us growin' fellas need to keep our strength up!" Tiny patted at his stomach as he talked and he was rewarded with a grin. He'd already prepared his wife that he was sending their resident stray that evening and he knew that she'd do her best to sweet talk him a little. Maybe between the two of them they could break through the tough shell the boy had wrapped around himself and give them some answers.

As the boy wandered out in the direction of his home, Tiny heard horses entering the livery. He rubbed his hands on his apron and made his way into the stable, expecting to find travelers looking for lodging for the night. Two men stood side by side, shaking the water from their hair and trying to stomp the mud off their boots. It was a short conversation as he agreed to stable the horses and pointed the two men in the direction of the town's only hotel. Suddenly one of the two nudged the other one and hurried towards the back of the livery.

"Hey! What's the problem?" Neither man seemed intimidated as Tiny quickly followed them.

"This horse! How long has he been here?"

Tiny frowned as the two strangers stood beside the stall holding Joe's pinto. Something in the question raised his hackles and he sidestepped it.

"What's it to you?"

The closer of the two reached out a hand and ran his fingers over the unknown brand on the horse's leg.

"This horse is stolen! That's what it is to me. Some kid stole him from my old boss a coupla weeks back."

The other one joined in the lie and nodded at Tiny. "Yeah, the boss was real mad, since this horse belonged to his youngest boy."

Merv barely contained a smile at his own clever explanation and quick thinking.

"And that kid was real spoiled like!"

Tiny took in the curl of the man's lip as he described someone he clearly didn't like much.

"And just who might your old boss be? I ain't never seen that brand around here before."

Merv pointed again at the pinetree brand. "That there's a Ponderosa brand. Can't imagine you've never heard of it, even in this backwater town!" The sneer on his face irked Tiny immensely, but he held his tongue as the man continued on, hoping to glean some information from the two of them. "Them Cartwright's big spread outside Virginia City. Only the biggest ranch in alla Nevada. We're both just movin' on to another job, but last I heard, he was postin' a reward for the horse's return. "

"That so?" Tiny scratched behind his neck as he considered the two men in front of him. For all that Joe had kept secret from him, he'd seen the way the boy cared for this particular horse and knew the men were lying. There was no way that Joe had stolen the animal. He didn't know why they would lie and he also knew that Joe'd be back any minute unless Annie had managed to keep him talking. He needed to get the two men out of his livery before Joe stumbled on them, even though he couldn't rightly define just why. He'd learned a long time ago to trust his gut and right now, his gut was shouting at him.

"Well, I bought this here horse from some fella a few days back. Said he needed the money for a gamblin' debt. I got the paperwork for the sale back home. What say tomorrow I run it by the sheriff and check it's all legal like?"

One of the two men looked nervous at the comment, but the other just nodded enthusiastically. "You do that and we'll send a wire to the Cartwrights. Let 'em know where the boy's horse is so's they can come and get him. Who knows? You might even get yourself some reward money; after all the fella's loaded."

"Well, you'll have to do that from Carson City since we don't have no telegraph lines out here."

Before Tiny could add anything further, the two men decided to head for the hotel and a hot meal. He took their payment for the single night and once again pointed them across the street to the saloon as he pocketed the money. He watched as the two of them walked off into the gloom of the early evening before setting to work with taking care of their two horses. He pulled the saddle from the first one, taking particular note of the brand on its hind leg. It didn't match the pine tree brand on Joe's horse and he quickly checked the second horse to see it had a different brand again. There was nothing unusual in two men with horses from different places, but he could not shake his unease at their accusations. Having spent many years in a people business, Tiny considered himself a reasonably good judge of people. He decided he didn't like anything he'd seen of his two latest customers.

Joe ambled back through the door just as Tiny finished filling the horse's feed troughs with a measure of oats for each of them.

"Miss Annie said you'd better get on home before your supper's ruined."

Tiny watched as the boy settled himself on a hay bale and removed the cloth from his plate of stew and dumplings. The smell wafted across to him and he smiled as Joe dug into the rich gravy-covered meat. He knew his serve was waiting on the stove at home and his stomach growled in anticipation. He held back the myriad of questions the two strangers had generated and debated whether or not he'd spook the boy by asking any of them. Something about the men bothered him more than he could explain and he watched the boy as he devoured his wife's good cooking. He made a show of putting away brushes and tidying the bench as he allowed Joe time to finish eating.

Joe looked up to see Tiny looking at him oddly and he felt his stomach do a wild flip.

"Something wrong?" He mopped up the last of the gravy with a chunk of bread and stuffed it into his mouth as he tried not to react to the strange look on Tiny's face.

"Don't s'pose the name Cartwright means anythin' to ya does it?"

Joe blanched as he stared at the man in front of him and he tried to keep himself from overreacting.

"Should it?"

"Why don't you tell me … Joe Cartwright?"

Tiny took a gamble on his hunch and knew he'd hit the jackpot as Joe almost fell off the hay bale. He stepped a little closer and frowned as Joe backed away from him.

"Now don't you go gettin' no dumb ideas there, boy."

Joe looked like he was about to bolt for the door and Tiny reached out to grab his arm. As Joe tried to twist out of his grasp, Tiny held on.

"You don't need ta run nowhere, just 'cause I figured out ya name."

"You don't understand!"

"You bet I don't understand! Ya told me ya had no family waitin' for ya. That's a lie and you and I both know it." Tiny allowed that to sink in a little before he softened his tone again. "So who hurt ya, boy? Your pa?"

"No!" Joe glared at him as Tiny held fast to his arm. "He'd never …"

As the bluster in the argument faded away, Tiny noted the mixture of emotions on the boy's face.

"He'd never do that? Then what would he do when he found ya was missin'?"

Joe swallowed a gulp of air and tried again to loosen the man's grip.

"Let me go. You have to let me go!"

"Don't ya get it yet, boy? I'm tryin' ta help ya!"

"You can't help me!" The anguish in Joe's voice wasn't lost on him and Tiny tried again. He felt like he was dealing with a spooked horse that was readying itself to break free and he dropped his voice accordingly.

"Why don't ya try me?"

"How'd you find out my name? Was it on the wanted poster?"

Tiny dropped his hand as if he held a hot coal. That certainly wasn't on his list of possibilities and he stared at the boy in front of him.

"What?"

"I told you that you couldn't help me so if you really want to do something for me, why don't you just let me get out of here while I still can?"

Tiny's jaw gaped open as he took a fresh look at the boy in front of him. He thought he'd worked out some of the kid's story and yet the last comments had just left him confounded. Suddenly the men's accusation that the horse was stolen took on a whole new meaning. In Nevada, horse thieves usually wound up at the end of a noose.

"Joe … I don't know just what ya done to make ya think the law'd be after ya, but ya gotta let me help ya, boy. It can't be that bad."

Joe was edging his way towards the stall where Cochise was tethered and Tiny tried desperately to think of some way to stop him.

"If that horse is stolen, just leave him here and I'll let ya get away. Ain't nobody gonna get ya description from me. I'll bet whoever he belongs to would just be happy ta have him back."

Tiny knew he was talking nonsense, but he couldn't think of anything else to stall what he could see unfolding. Joe had his saddle blanket flung over the horse's back and was half way through hefting the saddle on top when he suddenly exploded.

"He's my horse! I never stole anything from anybody!" Desperation shone in his eyes as he dared Tiny to try and stop him taking Cochise from the livery.

"Then hold up and tell me what's really goin' on." Tiny had edged behind Cochise and blocked the way out of the stall. He could see Joe getting jumpy as he knew he was trapped in the stall, but suddenly whatever was driving him seemed to collapse as Joe leaned his head into his horse's neck. His shoulders were shaking as he gripped at the horse's mane and Tiny waited until Joe slowly pulled himself upright.

"I'm no thief." The whisper was barely audible and Tiny slowly shuffled closer.

"I know ya ain't. I seen the way ya care for that animal. He's all yours."

Joe still gripped at Cochise as if he needed the horse to keep himself standing. The colour had drained from his face and even in the light of the lanterns, Tiny could see he looked ill. Eventually he reached a tentative hand out to the boy and pulled him slowly towards the hay bale he'd been sitting on before. Tiny stood in front of him with his arms folded across his chest. Joe glanced up to see the man staring patiently at him and it was enough to break his resolve. Something in the man's stance was too much like his father as he waited for Joe to speak his mind.

"So … do ya reckon it's time to start tellin' me the truth?"

Joe swallowed down the taste of bile and took a deep breath. "As soon as I'm done, you won't be so keen to help me as you are now. I'm not what you think."

Tiny shuffled his feet a little, but his arms stayed crossed and he stared right back at Joe. "Try me."

"I killed a man." Joe bit into his lower lip as he waited for the inevitable eruption. To think he was a horse thief was bad enough, but an honourable man like Tiny wasn't going to have any choice but to call the sheriff with that new revelation. He stared at the man's boots which hadn't moved and finally he looked up again.

"The same fella what left ya all black 'n' blue?"

Joe stared at the man who was looking at him with something that looked like compassion. He'd expected contempt or something else, but the look on Tiny's face confused him. He slowly nodded in agreement.

"Then I 'spect it was self defence, boy."

When Joe didn't confirm or reject his opinion, he tried again.

"How's about ya give me the resta the story? Fill in some o' the holes I got over here on my side."

"There was a girl … my friend." Joe frowned as he recalled how enthralled he'd been by the freckles on Becky's nose. It suddenly seemed like such a ridiculous thing in light of where he was sitting and he quickly shoved it aside. "He tried to hurt her. I stopped him."

Tiny stared at the slumped shoulders and the way Joe twisted his hands together. "How?"

"I just wanted him to stop. I wasn't really thinking. Pretty hard to think clear when you can't breathe!"

Finally Tiny settled himself on the hay bale next to Joe and prodded again. "How did you kill a grown man?"

Joe licked at suddenly dry lips as Stan's face was once again looming over him, squeezing the very life out of his lungs.

"I got his gun free of the holster and … and I shot him. I didn't mean to kill him. I just wanted him to stop and leave us both alone."

Joe scratched at his fingers as if something was stuck to them and Tiny had a fair idea what he was looking for.

"Tell me the truth, boy. Ya got a family out there looking for ya, don't ya? Them Cartwrights from Virginia City?"

Joe nodded miserably as he knew his father and brothers would leave no stone unturned as they searched for him.

"Then why are ya runnin' from them?"

"I'm not." He felt the sour taste of despair rising up through his gut as he considered how he had deliberately hidden from them and tried desperately to evade them. He still stood by his reasoning, but there was no way to explain that to Tiny. "Not really."

"Oh that's right … ya runnin' from the law."

Joe decided against arguing the point and just let it be. It didn't really matter what Tiny thought, he needed to keep quiet and think about how to protect his brothers from the fallout of his stupidity.

"Joe … we don't have no sheriff around these parts. The town's too small to pay for one and the nearest law we got is over at Carson City. Nobody here is lookin' for ya. I promise ya that, boy. We don't get no wanted posters here and no bounty hunters bother with this place neither, 'cause most maps can't even tell ya where we are!"

It was supposed to ease his thoughts, but Tiny watched as Joe just mulled over the comments. He stared at the straw on the floor for the longest time before a sudden thought had him on his feet. He paced across the open space and Tiny stayed put on the hay bale as he moved. Finally Joe spun back and pointed a finger at the man.

"How did you know what my name was if there's no information about me?"

Tiny leaned back against the wall and debated how to answer that. He didn't want to spook the boy any further, but he suddenly felt a warning bell going off very loudly in his head.

"Two fellas saw your horse. Told me it looked like one from the Ponderosa and said it belonged to the youngest Cartwright kid. I put a coupla pieces together and figured that's you."

Joe backed away from him as he spoke and Tiny cautiously rose to his feet.

"What two fellas? What did they look like?"

As Tiny began to describe the two men whose horses were tethered behind them, he watched Joe's distress climbing rapidly. He knew his gut was right when he doubted the men's integrity, but he also knew he was still missing something important.

"I have to leave … right now!" Joe clambered over the railing into the stall where he had begun to saddle Cochise earlier and hastily resumed the job. Tiny was almost on top of him before he knew it and he raised his arm to ward off the hand that grasped at him.

"Let me go! You have to let me go!"

"Joe … tell me what's goin' on, boy. Who are them two fellas?"

"That's who I'm running from! Now let me go!"

Tiny laid a meaty hand across the saddle as Joe pulled at the cinch straps. "Those two? Whatta they gonna do to you, Joe?"

As Joe ignored him and continued on with the job, Tiny finally pushed Cochise aside and grasped at Joe's arms, pinning him up against the railing. Joe kicked at his shins in a desperate attempt to get free, but he was no match for the giant hands that held him tightly.

"Joe … I said … what are them two fellas gonna do to ya?"

"Not me! They're going to kill my brothers! Now let me go!"

Tiny kept his hands right where they were and waited until Joe finally stopped struggling. Frustration and fear were plastered across his face as he stared back at Tiny.

"Please … you have to let me go."

"Now you're just talkin' in riddles, boy! Your brothers ain't here."

Joe went limp in his hands and Tiny slowly eased his hands away while still keeping himself between Joe and his escape route.

"Those two men? It's their brother I murdered. Before he died, he vowed his brothers would take their revenge on my brothers."

"And that's why ya ran." Tiny shook his head as he considered the frightened youth in front of him. "First up, Joe … ya didn't murder nobody. No court's gonna say ya did. Second … them two would need to get through me to get ta you. And last up … they can't get to ya brothers if they don't know ya here."

Joe swallowed down the lump that had buried itself in his throat and scowled at his horse. "They know I'm here. Kinda hard to hide a horse like Cochise."

Tiny reached out a hand and patted him on the shoulder. "They don't know nothin'! Told 'em I bought the horse off a fella with a gamblin' debt. They ain't seen you and in the mornin' they'll just ride on outta here without ever havin' seen ya. 'Cause you are bringin' that there blanket and sleepin' on my hearth tonight."

Joe felt his head swimming as he took in the words and tried to think through the consequences. Before he could answer, Tiny had already steered him out of the stall and begun unsaddling Cochise.

"And then tomorrow, after we get ridda them two, you and me is gonna ride over to Carson City and send a wire to ya pa."

Joe could barely breathe and Tiny nudged him towards the door. "Ya goin' home boy … and I ain't listenin' to any more ideas of ya runnin' off again!"


	7. Chapter 7

I love readers! You make my day with your comments and thoughts. Anybody who has ever read anything of mine knows I don't make anything simple, so there might have been some ups in the last chapter, but I'm not done messing with them yet!

 **Chapter Seven**

Annie sat at the table and quickly stitched another button into place as she listened to the conversation going on behind her. She had tried already to get Joe's shirt from him to try to salvage it, but he had pulled the front closed and shoved the ends back into his pants so she couldn't touch it. As Tiny had described the bruising he'd seen underneath the tattered shirt, she had understood why he would be reluctant to take it off. When her husband had not arrived home when expected, she guessed that something was wrong. As he walked through the door and dragged the boy in behind him, she knew something was very wrong. Joe looked ready to bolt back through the doorway and she noted that Tiny stationed himself between the boy and the door, like some kind of guard.

"Joe's gonna bunk here tonight. He even brung his own bed with him." Tiny laughed as he nudged Joe's arm and Annie smiled at the blanket he had with him. The small home they shared had one bed and only a few other pieces of furniture and she hurried to make some space in front of the hearth. It wasn't often they had visitors stay in their home, but it was the only practical place to put anybody.

As Tiny directed Joe to where they could both wash up and insisted that he do so, Annie had snatched at his shirt off the back of the chair before he could object. She hastily pulled her sewing box from under the bed and found a few reasonably matched buttons to get the job done. She kept an ear on the conversation, noting how little Joe responded to anything her husband said to him. As she glanced across to Tiny, she saw his slight shake of the head and resigned herself to waiting until later to find out what had happened.

Tiny settled himself at the table and ploughed through the meal that had been waiting for him for over an hour. He watched as Joe sat on the edge of the hearth and tried not to fidget. He kept his back to the fireplace and somehow managed to keep his arm tucked in over the bruising on his left side. Tiny knew that Annie had already seen it based on her face, but he allowed Joe to think he'd kept his secret. By the time Annie returned his shirt to him, the boy looked done in. It wasn't long before Joe was stretched out alongside the fireplace with the blanket wrapped up around his chin.

"What happened?" Annie whispered as Tiny climbed into bed beside her and she snuggled up against his chest.

"Things got a whole lot more complicated. Seems like the boy had a reason to run and that reason just showed up in town. Tomorrow, I need ta get ridda the reason and then we's gonna take a ride over to Carson City. Joe's pa needs ta take him on home."

"His pa? He's in Carson City?"

"No. He's from Virginia city. It's a long story, but tomorrow we's gonna fix it. Don't you worry none." Tiny kissed the top of her head and smiled in the dark as he considered how much better things would look in the next day or so.

* * *

Ben leaned against the window frame and stared into the darkness in the street below. Carson City had held out a faint hope and it had been so quickly dashed with just one wire to Virginia City. Roy had wired back that there was no sign of Joe or the two Hamilton brothers and the men searching had all come back empty-handed. As the exhausted trio had headed to the hotel for a meal and a warm bed, they had each been absorbed in possibilities and maybes as to where to try next. Each ranch they had passed by had no news of a pinto pony and Ben was beginning to wonder if they had turned the wrong way after all. He tried to reason how Joe may have been thinking, but he knew in his gut that Joe wasn't thinking. He was reacting. Fear was a powerful driver, but it didn't always make for the most obvious choices.

"We'll find him, Pa."

Ben had been so lost in thought that he didn't hear his sons approaching from behind. Adam noted his father's haggard look and he tried again.

"We've got the cook putting together travel rations for an early start so we can be up and gone with the sunrise."

"That's good, Son." Ben turned back to the darkened window and slowly nodded.

Hoss frowned at his brother before moving slowly towards his father. "Pa, you gotta get some rest. Adam and me is headin' to bed."

Ben just nodded and waved his hand towards the door. As Hoss pulled the door shut behind them, he could see his father still standing against the window, as if hoping that somehow, by some miracle, Joe would come riding down the main street.

* * *

Tiny whistled as he made his way towards the livery as he had done every morning for the better part of twenty years. He sidestepped the puddles of water and smiled as he looked up into the pre-dawn sky and saw stars. The rain was clearing and his two customers should be moving on. He'd kissed his wife goodbye and pointed at Joe as he reached the door.

"You keep outta sight. I'll be back as soon as I know them two is on their way and we'll get on the road."

He'd walked out and then hastily walked back inside again. "And don't you go gettin' any more o' them dumb ideas! Ya hear me?" The look had been stern, but Joe had almost smiled back at him as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "You lock this door behind me, woman, and don't let him outta ya sight."

Annie had laughed at him as she kissed him on the cheek again and pushed the door closed behind him. He didn't have a lock on the door, but he hoped that Joe would have the sense to stay put all the same.

Tiny found himself staring at the door every few minutes as he went about his morning's work. Several customers came and went as they collected their horses and went on with their day. The ones he wanted to show up seemed to be deliberately trying his patience as sunrise turned into mid morning. It was well past noon before the two men wandered into the livery, looking very much the worse for wear. It was clear they were both hungover and he frowned at the stale smell of whiskey rolling off both of them.

As the brothers pulled at saddles and bridles, Tiny tried to curb his impatience. They both seemed to fumble at the job and he could barely restrain himself from pushing them both aside and insisting on doing the job for them. He didn't want to give either of them anything to think twice about and he kept himself busy by carrying a load of wood into the smithy. He waited until they were almost done before walking into the livery again under the pretense of needing some equipment.

"Should be better on the road now this rain's cleared."

The older of the two eyed him from under the brim of his hat and Tiny wondered just how much the sunlight was bothering him. The rough stubble on his chin and the bleary look of his eyes betrayed a hard night of drinking. All he got back was a grunt as the man climbed into the saddle and nudged his horse forward. The second man hung back and stared at the pinto still waiting in the farthest stall.

"You sure you don't want us to take that horse with us to Carson City? We can send a wire to the Cartwrights for you."

Tiny knew the man was fishing for information and he kept a nonchalant stance as he shook his head.

"No need. I ain't givin' up an animal like that 'til somebody proves my papers ain't good and legal."

"Suit yourself! But I'm tellin' you, that horse is stolen."

Tiny watched as the two men finally rode away and he wondered again just what their angle was. He groaned as he realised that he wouldn't be riding to Carson City after all as the two men needed plenty of time to clear the road before he'd risk taking Joe anywhere. He prayed that Annie could keep a grip on their guest and not let him escape again, but he figured the boy was frightened enough to behave himself.

* * *

Hoss climbed down off his horse and looked around the muddy street. The previous couple of days worth of rain had not yet soaked into the ground and there were deep wheel ruts and bogholes along the length of what passed for the main street.

"I'll flip ya for it."

Adam barely smiled at his brother as he knew exactly what he meant. Each time they stopped in any place, it was the same process. Check the sheriff's office, the saloon and the livery as the three places were the best sources of possible information.

"No need. I'll meet you both back here as soon as I'm done." He watched as Hoss and his father tied their horses off to the hitching rail and he turned his horse towards the livery. It wasn't a large town, but he was too tired to walk anywhere he didn't need to. There was no sign of a sheriff's office, but he knew his father would find whatever passed for the law in the place. Hoss could deal with the saloon on his own as it didn't seem big enough to have more than six patrons. Empty buildings were boarded up and he looked around at the dilapidated buildings that were clearly still in use. The town had obviously seen better days.

It only took a few minutes to find the livery and he slid from the saddle while tugging at his horse's reins. There was nobody in sight and he tied Sport off to an outside rail and headed into the gloomy interior of the stable. It took a bit for his eyes to adjust to the darkened interior and he called out to see if anybody was around. As he heard the distinctive sound of a blacksmith at work, he was about to move through the building and out the back when something pulled him up short. He rubbed a hand across his eyes to check he wasn't mistaken before hurrying toward the farthest stall.

"Well hello there." He ran a hand down Cochise's flank and smiled as he quickly appraised the horse's general condition. He was pleased with what he saw and hoped that his brother was in equally good shape.

"What the hell are you doin?"

Adam spun around to see a shotgun pointed at his chest and he slowly raised his hands. Behind the barrel, he noted a man that made Hoss look underdone and he held both palms outwards.

"Easy. I don't mean any harm."

The man glared at him and Adam felt himself being appraised with the same intensity he had just used on Joe's horse.

"Then get away from that horse." Tiny waved the shotgun towards the door and Adam quickly complied.

"It's not what it looks like. I'm looking for my brother and that's his horse."

Tiny didn't move as he stared at the stranger. He didn't much resemble the scrawny kid he had tucked away in his home and he glared back at the man in front of him. Maybe Joe was right that the law was after him and maybe he'd just caught himself a smooth-tongued bounty hunter.

"Don't know nothin' about your brother. Some fella sold me that horse to cover a gamblin' debt a coupla days ago."

Adam frowned as he considered the comment. If Joe had been bushwhacked along the road it was entirely possible that his horse had been sold illegally and without papers. He slowly lowered his hands and noted that while the giant man didn't object, he also didn't lower the shotgun.

"Don't suppose he gave you any idea where he got the horse in the first place? My brother's missing and that is definitely his horse. If something's happened to him along the road, I need to know where to start looking for him."

Tiny heard the emotion behind the question and made a cautious decision.

"Well, the fella's still here in town so why don'tcha wait right here and I'll see if I can find him and ask him. I don't want no stolen horse on my hands."

"Why don't I come with you and ask him myself?" Adam stepped forward, but Tiny waved the shotgun back at him.

"Why don't you just wait here like I said?" The threat behind the words wasn't lost on him and Adam nodded in agreement. He tucked his hands under his armpits and leaned back against the railing.

"Why don't I just wait right here until you come back?" He smiled, but barely managed to keep himself from following the man out into the street. If somebody had hurt his brother and taken his horse, he wanted to get his hands on that somebody. It wasn't long before he heard his father's voice calling him and he wandered back out to where his horse was tethered.

"There's no sheriff in town. No marshal either so I couldn't get any information. Hoss is still up at the saloon so I came to check how you were doing."

"Pa, Joe's horse is here!"

"What?" Ben was on the ground before Adam could comment again and he thumbed his way to the back of the stable.

"Down there. The owner says he bought the horse off someone to pay off a gambling debt."

Ben wasn't listening as he made his way towards his son's horse. Cochise snorted back at him as he rubbed a hand down his flank.

"He's gone to see if he can find him."

"Who?"

Adam started over as he watched his father taking in the familiar sight of Joe's beloved horse. There was no way Joe would be too far away. Unless … unless something had forced them apart.

"The owner said he's gone to find the fella he bought Cochise from. Said he'd find out if he knew anything about Joe."

Ben couldn't take his hands off the horse and he nodded at the words without really listening.

* * *

Tiny pushed open the door and smiled as he found Joe pacing the small room.

"You said you'd be back hours ago!"

"Hold up now." Tiny raised a hand and realised too late that he still held his shotgun in his other hand.

"What happened?" Annie beat Joe to the question, but they both stood just in front of him like some kind of inquisition panel.

"What do ya brothers look like?"

Joe frowned at him as he wasn't expecting the sudden change of thought.

"Well, I told you that Hoss is a lot like you and Adam … well, Adam's almost as tall, but not as big. Dark hair. Why?"

Tiny placed himself in front of the door, just in case, before answering.

"'cause I think that brother of yours might be down at the livery, but I ain't certain about that."

Joe felt his knees folding and he gripped at the edge of the table. Before he could speak, Tiny outlined his plan.

"Just in case it's trouble, I'm gonna head back and get him out in the street. You hang back and if it's him, all well and good, but if it ain't … well you get back here and send Annie down. Nobody's gonna think twice if my woman comes to see me and I'll know the fella's trouble."

Joe nodded at the plan as he watched Tiny heading for the door. He felt his heart racing at the idea that one of his brothers could be so close. He realised as he followed Tiny down the alleyway that he hadn't specified which brother. He almost called out to him, but saw how close to the livery they were and he kept his mouth shut.

* * *

"I'm going to go and get Hoss while you wait for this fella to come back. This is the best lead we'll get anywhere."

Adam watched as his father climbed onto Buck and pushed the horse into a trot as he headed back down the street. He kicked a toe into the mud and tried to keep himself from pacing as his thoughts kept racing off at multiple tangents. An old memory chose that moment to come back at him and he laughed at the mud sliding across the edge of his boots. Joe would have been five or six, he couldn't recall which, but he had been dressed ready for church and told to stay put. But Joe being Joe, he couldn't help himself. For some reason known only to a small child, he had decided to head out to the barn and gotten stuck half way across the yard in a mud puddle. He'd tried to get himself out of trouble, but the squelchy mud had suctioned onto his boots and he'd been forced to pull his feet out of them. In doing so, he'd lost his balance and fallen straight into the puddle.

Adam smiled as he recalled the sound of his father's furious shout and Joe's wail as he tried to explain just why he now resembled one of his own mud pies. He nudged again at the muddy ground and found the smile sliding off his face. No matter what Joe tried to tell them, a part of him wanted to keep him where he would always be that little kid who found trouble at every turn and needed his big brothers to keep him safe.

"Except you did a lousy job this time, didn't you!"

He was beginning to consider heading off to wherever the big man had gone when he heard a voice calling out to him. He looked up again to see the blacksmith heading towards him and he began to move.

"Adam!"

He stopped in his tracks and watched as Joe called out to him from behind the livery. The look on his little brother's face went from something akin to relief to outright fear in a split second. Joe was pointing over his head and shouting something as he ran forward and Adam swiveled to see what he was talking about.

The sound of a gunshot rang out across the street and Joe launched himself at his brother. Another shot split the stillness of the afternoon and Adam felt his feet sliding out from underneath him as Joe slammed into him. Time seemed to slow as he saw Tiny raise his shotgun and fire into the air. Something toppled from the roof as he landed on his back in the mud with Joe's weight sprawled across him. For all that he'd often teased his brother about being scrawny, he suddenly seemed so very heavy.


	8. Chapter 8

Tiny seems to think he needs his own fanclub based on the responses he's had. Or maybe his own Facebook page. Annie agrees that he is pretty awesome. If only he was real! The last chapter seemed to provoke a huge response so hopefully you are not too put out by this one.

 **Chapter Eight**

The stillness in the air was shattered by first one and then another gunshot. Ben put his heels into his horse's flanks and felt, rather than saw, Hoss do the same. Suddenly another deeper shot sounded out and they both recognised it as a shotgun. As they barreled down the muddy road towards the sound of the shots, he knew that they were coming from the general area of the livery and his heart pounded wildly in his chest. That blacksmith had threatened his son once already with a shotgun and his mind was screaming possibilities at him that he barely managed to squash back down. As they turned the corner with their guns at the ready, the scene that confronted them was worse than anything he had imagined.

A wild looking man wearing a blacksmith's leather apron was shouting at the rooftop and waving a shotgun towards something only he could see. For a brief moment, Ben thought the man had gunned down his son as Adam lay half sprawled in the mud and he was struggling to pull himself up off the ground. As both father and son flung themselves from still moving horses, the man fired off another shot into the air. Hoss turned to see what he was firing at and he saw a dark silhouette against the edge of the roof. Somebody clambered across from one roof to another and edged up against the taller one. The blacksmith threw his shotgun to the ground and glanced around before charging towards Adam. Hoss was about to lunge after him when he saw the man grab at Adam's outstretched hand and pulled his revolver from his grasp. With an unexpected quickness of movement, he crouched to the ground and fired into the air again. A volley of shots carried across the space and suddenly a body tumbled from the rooftop.

As understanding forced its way into his thoughts, Hoss raced across to where the man had fallen and kicked at his hand to check he didn't still hold a weapon. He was only a little surprised when he realised the man was one of the three brothers who had made such a nuisance of themselves back in Virginia City. He couldn't recall which of the three he was, but at that moment he didn't care. The man groaned in pain and tried to push himself back up off the ground before Hoss stomped a foot on his back. He held his gun trained on the man's head and growled in anger as he tried to look back and see if Adam was on his feet yet. What he saw made his heart skip a beat.

Adam had almost pulled himself upright, but cradled up against his chest was their younger brother. Hoss hadn't seen Joe when he first jumped from his horse, but the pieces were falling into place far too clearly. The man under his gun hand groaned again and Hoss turned back to glare at him. His hand wavered slightly as his finger itched against the trigger.

"Don't you move unless you want a hole in ya head!"

The only response he got was another pain-filled groan and the man dropped his head back to the ground. Hoss took a glance over his shoulder to see his father grasping at Joe.

"Adam!"

His brother lifted his face towards the call and Hoss noted the anguish on his face. For a moment, he thought his little brother was dead already until he saw his father shaking his arm.

Ben grasped at Joe's shoulder and arm and shook him, trying to provoke any kind of reaction. Blood dribbled down the length of his jacket and Adam's hand was pressed firmly against the source. Red blood oozed out between his fingers and Adam suddenly gripped tighter. His face had drained of colour as he felt the warmth spreading and seemed helpless to stop it.

"Joseph! Open your eyes, Son."

Hoss decided the man at his feet wasn't worth wasting his time on when his brother needed him more and he quickly crouched down in the mud beside his father.

"You need ta bring him down to the hotel."

Adam had his chin resting on the top of Joe's head and he looked up to see the giant man he'd tangled with earlier.

"What?"

"The hotel. We need ta take him down there. I'll find Sanders."

"You take them to the hotel and I'll find Sanders."

Tiny swiveled back to see his wife standing behind him. Without needing to explain, he knew she would have heard the shots and assumed the worst. He nodded at her and watched as she gathered her skirts about her and ran off towards the hotel.

"The hotel. It's just down there." He pointed back the way they had just come and Ben nodded vaguely at him. He moved to lift Joe from Adam's grasp, but Hoss beat him to it.

"Wait!" Adam pulled at his brother and Hoss leaned back. "You need to keep pressure on that wound."

Ben tugged at his neckerchief and wadded it up against the still-oozing hole in Joe's jacket. He held his hand firmly against it as Hoss gently lifted his brother into his arms. Throughout the entire thing, Joe hadn't reacted and Hoss leaned his head down to check he was still breathing. As Tiny reached a hand out to pluck Adam from the mud, he barely noted as several men had appeared on the scene. He ignored them as he steered the small group towards the hotel, skirting around mud puddles as they went. He didn't care what happened to the man they had left behind and it seemed that none of the trio had any interest either.

Annie had alerted the hotel clerk they were on their way and by the time they arrived at the hotel, he had a room open and he was standing ready for them. Somebody had headed to the kitchen and before long a woman appeared carrying water and towels and bandages.

Hoss leaned down and ever so gently laid his brother out on the bed. Joe still hadn't reacted to anything until his father began to peel off his jacket. As he tugged his arms out of the sleeves, Joe began to stir and he groaned into the pillow. Ben dropped the jacket on the floor and slowly reached out again towards the blood-soaked shirt underneath it. He sucked in a sharp breath as he grasped at the shirt-tail and ripped upwards until it laid his son's back bare. Blood still dribbled freely from the wound that was set high up underneath his shoulder blade. The deep hues of heavy bruising still reflected his son's ill-treatment only a few days earlier and he swallowed down the anger that arose in his chest.

"We need a doctor." Ben looked up to see if the blacksmith was still with them and he found the man standing behind Adam. Tiny nudged his way forward and shook his head.

"Ain't no doc round here. Closest one's over in Carson City. We do have Sanders though and my Annie's gone to find him."

"Sanders?"

"Best thing we got hereabouts. He was an army medic and he's done most o' the doctorin' round here for years now." Tiny tried to sound optimistic and he pointed back towards Joe. "Best keep the pressure on that 'til he gets here. My Annie won't be long."

Hoss had pulled a wad of bandages from the pile and he held a thick pad of material over the still-bleeding wound. Joe flinched as he leaned down on his back and Hoss ran his other hand across his brother's head. "Easy now there, Joe. You're gonna be good as new, real soon."

"A'am?" Ben leaned down as Joe mumbled softly. He shifted against the pillow and tried again. "A'am?"

"Adam's fine, Son. He's right over there." Ben looked up to see his eldest son leaning against the doorframe and he took a closer look when he seemed to sway slightly. A dark line dribbled down his hand from just below the cuff of his sleeve. He frowned as he stared a little more intently. "Adam?"

"Pa's right, Joe. I'm just fine." He shook his head at his father as he pulled his hand away from his arm and lifted it to show he was all right. It didn't fool anybody, but his voice was enough to calm his brother and Joe seemed to sink back into the pillow again.

The sound of a commotion outside the door carried in from the passageway and Tiny hurried over towards the door before Adam could get through it. His wife stood outside the door with a firm grip on a man's arm and a small medical bag that had seen better days. Tiny swore under his breath as he took in the man's state. Adam quickly sized up the situation and concluded that the drunk man was the town's resident army medic.

"He's not touching my brother!" Adam held himself upright despite the way his stomach heaved against his ribs. "He's drunk!"

"He's hungover. Not the same thing." Tiny grabbed at the man's arm and shoved him up against the wall. He watched as the man gripped his head in his hand and he nodded towards his wife. "Coffee. Get him a pot of coffee up here and a shirt that don't reek of cheap whiskey."

As Annie disappeared off downstairs, Tiny held the man's face between his two enormous hands. They seemed to swallow up most of his face, but two bleary eyes stared straight back at him. "Now you are gonna sober up and pull yourself together real quick. There's a kid in there I promised was goin' home and I ain't no liar!"

Adam leaned back against the doorframe and shook his head in disgust. "I told you … he's not touching my brother! I'll ride for a doctor before I let him anywhere near Joe."

Tiny turned back towards him without letting go of Sanders. "Dammit, that kid in there don't have time for you to ride all the way to Carson City and back. That's not even countin' on the question of whether or not any doc'll come back with ya! Not many folks here can pay for services and ya could spend a week just arguin' the point! Now I know he don't look like much, but right now, Sanders is the best hope Joe's got. We just need ta get some coffee into him."

As if on cue, Annie appeared with a pot of coffee and a large mug. She filled it and thrust it into Sanders' hand. As Tiny glared at him, Sanders gulped down the thick black liquid and was barely done before Annie grabbed the mug and refilled it. Adam couldn't decide who he was more angry at and was about to make another comment when he heard Joe cry out from the other room. He bolted back into the room and saw Hoss tossing aside another bloodied rag and pressing down on a fresh one.

"He's bleeding out." The frantic tone in Hoss' voice was clear to them all and Adam felt himself shoved aside from behind. The man they were relying on pushed his way forward and Adam grabbed at his shoulder.

"You're not touching my brother!"

"You're right." Sanders held up his hands and Adam stared at the tremor that shook through them. "I can't help him. Not like this."

Ben sprang up from the bed and grasped at Sanders' arm. "Then tell me what to do!"

"Pa!" Adam began to object, but Ben held up his hand.

"Tell me what to do. My son is bleeding out and I won't just sit here and watch him die!"

Annie watched the tense standoff and decided she'd had enough. She pushed her way into the middle of the group of men and began issuing orders. "You, get another mug of this coffee into you!" She pointed a finger into Sanders' chest and he nodded mutely as she poured another mugful from the pot.

"You, get some more hot water up here." Hoss edged for the door as she glared at him.

"You, sit down over there before you fall over. I'll get to you shortly." Adam almost smiled as the woman suddenly had a room full of men jumping to attention.

"You, get me some of that whiskey, if he hasn't drunk it all." Tiny moved towards the door and was soon heard stomping down the stairs to the bar below them.

"And you," she patted Ben on the chest as she moved towards the bed, " you come and help me keep this boy of yours alive."

Ben grasped at her hand and squeezed it before settling on the far side of the bed. When Tiny returned with the bottle, she watched as Sanders followed it across the room. Annie reached up and slapped him across the face as he leaned closer and he recoiled from her.

"Don't even think about it! Now, tell me, what do we need to do?"

Sanders held a hand to his face and tried to keep his composure, acutely aware that Annie wouldn't hesitate to slap him again. Ben gripped at Joe's arm as the man sat down on the other side of the bed and lifted the wad of bandages from his back. The thick trail of blood was beginning to congeal, but it still seeped enough that they knew they needed to hurry.

"I don't have no ether. He's out now, but he's gonna wake up. You're gonna need to hold him down when he does."

Adam began to stand up, but Annie just glared at him. "You! Sit yourself back down. You're no good to him if you can't hold him still." Adam looked like a beaten dog as he fell back into the chair. He couldn't deny how light-headed he felt and Annie was right, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone in the room.

Sanders began to outline what needed to be done and Ben and Annie listened intently as Hoss and Tiny moved to the head of the bed. The two men eyed each other off and knew that they'd be more than capable of holding Joe down.

"You need to keep from pushing that bullet any further into the wound. It's already too close to his lung for my liking and I don't want it to push on through."

Ben sucked in a slow breath before blowing it back out again in a huff. He whispered a prayer, asking that his hand hold steady and his son survive his clumsy surgery. Sanders pointed to the top of the wound and imitated how he wanted Ben to proceed.

"God help me." Ben drew a stroke with the blade and almost pulled back as Joe bucked under his hand. Tiny and Hoss gripped at his shoulders while Annie leaned against his legs. Blood welled up from the opened wound and Ben almost stopped breathing. As he poked into the wound, trying to find the wayward bullet, Ben could feel Joe stirring under his hand. The ragged scream that suddenly cut the air would haunt him for many years to come.

"Forgive me, Joe."

"Don't stop! You gotta get that thing outta him." Sanders gripped his hands together in a desperate attempt to stop them from shaking, but he wasn't fooling anybody.

Joe screamed again and tried to fight off the hands that held him.

"Easy there, little brother." Hoss leaned down to speak into his ear, but Joe seemed oblivious to his presence. Joe arched his back against the torment and he tried to twist sideways. As he cried out one more time, he finally sagged back against the pillow and stopped moving.

"Alright, Pa, he's out cold. Get it done before he wakes up again."

Ben rubbed the back of his hand across his face as tears streaked his cheeks. He stared at his son's blood across his fingers before Sanders snapped his fingers impatiently in front of him.

"You gotta keep going! He's gonna bleed right out if you stop now!"

Ben stared at the man's dirty stubbly face and wondered when the last time was he'd had a shave. The bizarre thought jolted him back to the reality of what he was doing and he probed into the wound once again. As more blood spilled out, he almost cried with relief as he felt the solid metal of a bullet.

"All right, now you need to get the edge of that probe under the rim of the bullet. Can't pull it out if you don't."

With infinite care, Ben began to edge the bullet upwards. At one point he lost his grip on it and he muttered something under his breath.

"Easy now. Don't go pushing it back down again."

It would be another minute or so before he felt the flesh give way and the bullet slide out into his hand. The victory of getting it out was quickly squashed by the realisation that even more blood was following it.

"Get a bandage on that wound. Need to get pressure on it and stop the bleeding."

Ben poured a good wash of whiskey over the wound before allowing Hoss to press a thick wad of clean fabric down onto the bloodied mess. He lifted his brother into his arms as Sanders wrapped a length of bandage tightly around his chest. Instead of laying him back down, Hoss seemed reluctant to let him go.

"Lay him down on his back. The pressure'll help stop the bleeding." Sanders prodded Hoss' arm as he spoke and he was about to speak again when Hoss finally complied. As he laid his brother back against the pillow, Hoss slowly stood up and stepped back. His father looked exhausted and he clamped a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You did good, Pa."

Ben dropped his head and stared at the blood that stained his hands. "Let's hope it was good enough."

Annie shifted away from their first patient and turned her attention to the second one. Adam was still seated where he'd been put, but he leaned up against the wall and had his eyes closed. As she moved closer, he jolted upright and she reached out a hand to calm him.

"I need to take a look at that arm. See if the bullet's still in there."

"It's not."

"And who made you a doctor?"

Adam almost smiled at her tone. "Don't need to be a doctor to know that two holes means a bullet went straight through."

Annie tore the sleeve open and inspected the two holes he was describing. "Well, Doctor, you might just be right!"

"He usually is." Adam had no idea how he suddenly got there, but Hoss was standing over him, staring at the twin holes in his arm. As Adam allowed the two of them to clean and patch up his arm, he could not take his eyes off his brother. The bullet hole in his brother's back should have been in his chest.


	9. Chapter 9

It's always such a buzz to wake up in the morning to an inbox full of messages so thank you once again. I'm glad you are all enjoying this. I think I've got one more chapter so we are almost done.

 **Chapter Nine**

Over the next hour or so, Annie kept a firm grip on the room around her. She had long figured that men were useful for many things, but there were times when it seemed that they just had no idea of how to do things. She kept up a running commentary that didn't give any of them time to stop and dwell on things that had happened or were still possibly yet to come. She had seen the sheer determination of a father who refused to let go of his son, but once the necessary things were out of the way, his body betrayed him. His hands shook as he stared at the copious amount of sticky blood that stained his hands and lower arms. Annie had sent her husband off to find a bowl of water and towels to clean up any trace of that blood. The entire group had traipsed mud everywhere and Joe's muddy boots were still firmly attached to his feet, smearing mud across the bedding where he had kicked and struggled only a short time before. She poked Hoss in the chest and directed him to get his older brother into the next room and clean him up. As Hoss gave her a quick yesm'm and grasped Adam under the armpit and hauled him to his feet, he noted how much dried mud flaked off his back and onto the floor. Adam looked like he'd been wrestling a pig and Hoss almost said so. The groan from his older brother made him hold his thought and he pointed towards the door instead.

"Let me get you settled in there and I'll head down for our saddlebags." He hoped the horses had stayed put near the livery instead of wandering loose where they'd been discarded. By the time he made it to the street below, he could see that somebody had rounded them all up and tethered them to the hitching rail in front of the hotel. He smiled at the kindness and quickly gathered all of their gear and rifles from the horses before making the trek back upstairs to his brother.

Ben seemed to stir a little as Tiny placed a bowl of warm water and soap on the nighstand and nudged him towards it. He held out several cloths and Annie took one from him. As she dipped it in the water, she smiled as her husband seemed to already know her plan. She conceded that maybe he did know a few things after all. Tiny pulled at Joe's boots and tucked them under his arm as he picked up the bloodied and torn clothes and all of the discarded bandages.

"I need some clean bedding sent up too."

Tiny just nodded as he made for the door and Annie turned back to her patient. She stifled a sob as she looked again at the boy who had impatiently paced her home only a few short hours before. As she began to wipe away the dried blood that smeared across his back, she talked to him in soft low words that only she could hear. She nodded calmly when his father finished cleaning his own mess and sat down on the other side of the bed to help her.

Matt Sanders still sat slumped against the wall and she cast a wary glance his way before continuing on with what needed to be done. There'd be time later to deal with him and his shakes as his body craved the whiskey still sitting on the nightstand. She knew he'd fought that particular demon for many years and was aware of some of what he'd seen in his time in the army. It seemed that no amount of whiskey could really silence the voice that shouted in his ear and she prayed he knew he had still saved a life in spite of it. There were some in the town who looked down their noses at him, but underneath the mess, she knew there was a good man who had been broken somewhere along the line. While they couldn't quite put him back together, they could help carry the pieces that made up the whole.

As she finally finished cleaning up, Tiny reappeared with an armful of bedding. It was clear he had simply pulled it from another bed as it was all bundled into a knot in his arms. She tapped Ben on the shoulder and watched as he gently lifted his son into his arms. Annie quickly and efficiently stripped the filthy bedding and dumped it on the floor behind her. Tiny seemed to fumble with what he was holding and she smiled at him. There were many things her man could do, but manage linen was not one of them.

"The sheet first." She pointed to the bottom of the pile and Tiny somehow juggled it all to release the bit she was after. By the time the bed was remade and Joe was settled into it, he still hadn't stirred. Ben had not released his hold on his son and Annie smiled encouragingly at him as she pulled the blanket up around Joe's bare shoulders.

"Sleep's the best thing for him right now. Let his body heal up." She wasn't entirely convinced of her own words, but she smiled anyway.

When Ben didn't answer, she headed for the door and spoke to her husband.

"Keep an eye on Matt. Don't let him leave just yet. I'm going down to the kitchen to see what Mary has down there. These fellas need some food in them."

* * *

Hoss watched as Adam clumsily pulled his second boot back on with his one good hand. His other arm hung limp in the makeshift sling Hoss had made out of his neckerchief and his shirt dangled loose against his body. The arm underneath looked swollen and stiff, but Adam simply grit his teeth together and finished the job. He slowly stood up and Hoss watched as he swayed a little before righting himself.

He stepped forward and was grateful when Adam didn't argue with him as he took hold of his elbow.

"Let's go and check on that little brother of ours."

Adam nodded and followed closely as Hoss pushed open the door once again. Neither of them were sure of what they would find on their return and it was a pleasant surprise to find the room stripped and cleaned and Joe soundly asleep in the bed. Their father sat on the edge of the bed like some kind of sentinel and his eyes did not stray from his son's face, even as they made their presence known beside him.

Tiny had pulled Sanders into a chair and the man was drinking yet another mug of lukewarm coffee as he tried valiantly to keep his hands from shaking. Adam stared at the man and felt a surge of anger that a drunk man had been brought in to take care of Joe. Just as suddenly as the anger flared, it died. He watched the man trying to hold his hands still and he knew what he was seeing. Tiny had said the man was an ex army medic. What kind of horrors had he endured in his time of service that had driven him to the point he was at now? The fact he'd managed to guide their father's hands was enough for Adam to reconsider his opinion of the man. As Sanders made eye contact with him, almost cringing as if he was about to be struck, Adam stepped towards him.

"Thank you."

"You need to get a real doc for that brother of yours." Sanders took another swig of the coffee and pulled a face at it. "We got the bullet out, but he still needs a doc to see to him. I can't do nothin' more for him."

"I already planned to ride out to Carson City just as soon as I got this here brother sorted out." Hoss clamped his hand on Adam's shoulder and guided him towards the bed. "You and Pa keep an eye on little brother for me 'til I get back."

"You need to eat something before you make that trip." Hoss turned at the sound of Annie's voice and he grinned at her as she carried a tray of food into the room. "I've got cold roast and bread and cheese and a fresh pot of coffee. I'm sorry it's not more, but the kitchen didn't have much else ready yet."

* * *

Adam felt like the walls of the room were beginning to close in around him and he pushed himself to his feet. His father was laid out on the bed beside Joe; his exhausted body and mind having finally given out on him. His hand was flung out across Joe's chest, as if he could somehow barricade his son behind some kind of protective wall. Adam stood and stretched out the kinks in his back and raised a hand as Annie moved quietly towards him.

"I'm fine. Just need to stretch my legs a little."

She settled back into the chair and kept watch as Adam made his way towards the door. It had been hours since Hoss had left and Tiny had taken Sanders back home. He'd said he was also going to take care of the horses and check on those still in the livery, but she wasn't surprised when he whispered he was also going to check on the man they'd left lying in the street. She already expected to find he had died from his wounds after tumbling from the rooftop, but Tiny would find out for sure with the townsfolk who had come out to help.

Adam stared up into the night sky as he leaned on the hitching rail and he sucked in a halting, ragged breath. The events of the last few days all milled together through his thoughts and he found himself second-guessing every word he had spoken and every action he had taken, wondering what he could have done differently. Maybe if he'd spent less time winding up his youngest brother and more time building him up, Joe might have run to them instead of away from them when he had first found himself in trouble. He knew that the Hamilton brothers had given his brother more grief than he'd let on and Adam wished for the hundredth time that he had pushed harder for answers when he could have. Maybe then the whole sorry saga could have been averted. Joe should not be lying near death in a strange town. He should be racing his horse with Hoss as they finished their day's work. He should be trying to convince his father to allow him to do whatever his latest hare-brained idea was. He should be playing checkers with Hoss and cheating his way to a win. He should be doing any number of things! Not possibly still bleeding to death.

Adam leaned his head on his arms as he tried to compose his runaway thoughts and he barely heard the sound of boots on the boardwalk. When Tiny spoke his name, he nearly jumped.

"Ya can't keep blamin' yourself for this, ya know."

Adam stared at the man who had suddenly become such an intricate part of their life. "Who says I am?"

Tiny laughed softly as he stared back. "I've seen that look before. Seen it in my own mirror, boy." The bitter edge to his tone caught Adam by surprise.

"Then who should I blame? I'm his older brother. It's my job to keep him safe and I completely failed to do so. My kid brother took a bullet in the back for me and I have to see my father's face every time he looks at Joe."

Tiny leaned against the railing and scratched at his neck before answering. "And how would it make things any better for ya pa if that bullet hit you and not ya brother. Do ya think he'd prefer to lose one of his sons over another one?"

"That's not what I mean! Pa could never choose between us. You just… you don't understand how it is."

"Try me." Tiny found himself almost smiling as he remembered saying the same thing to Joe.

"Pa loves us all. I know that. But Joe? There's something about Joe and Pa that's just different. Joe's given him the most grey hairs, there's no arguing that … but there's a way that Pa looks at Joe sometimes and … I just can't describe it. And Joe? Joe needs Pa the most. Not because he's the youngest, but … I can't even really explain it. It just is. I see it … and I don't always understand it …. and I'm okay with it. If anybody took that from Pa, I don't know that he'd ever recover."

"It's a hard thing for a father to lose a son." Tiny stared at the ground as he spoke and Adam felt a chill wash over him. He waited, as if expecting there was more to the comment.

"Don't ya think ya pa might be beatin' himself up to see his son almost die? Feelin' the same guilt that you're carryin'?"

Adam conceded that his father would be doing just that and he frowned at how perceptive the man was.

"And that other brother o' yours? He'd be carryin' a weight of guilt too, I 'spect."

As Adam nodded at him, Tiny smiled back. "Now tell me, just how much is all that there guilt gonna help that little brother o' yours get himself back on his feet?"

"It won't."

"Darn sure it won't. Now just for the record, I thought I was protectin' him and I walked him right back into a trap. So you don't hold the bag on all the guilt here, boy."

"What do you mean, you walked him into a trap?"

"That boy was at my home last night. Told him you was here and I didn't know if you was who ya said ya was or some kinda bounty hunter. I told him ta follow behind me. Take a look at ya and see for himself. He told me them two fellas was after his brothers and I figured he was just runnin' scared. Turns out the kid knew what he was talkin' about and I got it all wrong."

Adam licked at his lip as he considered the man leaning on the rail next to him. He had only gotten glimpses of the story, but he knew he owed the man a debt of gratitude, not condemnation.

"From what I can see, I'm thankful my brother found you and your wife. Seems we both need to ditch the guilt!"

"Maybe ya right there, boy. That young brother o' yours told me enough that I know already what kinda family ya are. Now you get on back up there and leave ya useless guilt down here where it belongs. You keep that boy from slippin' away. You hold onto him and don't let him go! And when he wakes up, you take him on home and keep on doin' whatever ya was doin' before."

"Yes, sir. On one condition." Adam smiled as he felt the weight of Tiny's hand on his shoulder.

"What's that?"

"You leave the guilt down here too." He pulled himself up a little straighter and looked at the man again. "He got to you too, didn't he?"

"Dunno what ya talkin' about!"

"Of course you don't," Adam chuckled as he walked away.

Long after Adam had walked back inside, Tiny stayed put, his thoughts many years back from where he stood now. Guilt was something he'd come to terms with before. The small boy he had buried in the town cemetery still lived on in his dreams and one day he knew he'd see his boy again. Until then, he would just have to make the best of things. He brushed a stray tear from his face as he considered the son who still drifted in a sea of uncertainty and he offered up a silent prayer that another father would not feel his pain this night.

* * *

Sometime in the early dawn light, two riders appeared on the edge of town. Hoss pushed his exhausted horse the last mile or so towards the hotel and felt a mixture of relief and fear as he dismounted and hitched his horse to the rail. It had been a long and lonely ride, but he prayed that the man with him would still be needed. He tossed that thought around and decided that he hoped the man would not be needed and he finally decided his mind was too tired to think straight and he didn't know what he hoped for.

A light still shone in the window above and he took that as a good sign. By the time he nudged open the door to the hotel room, he wasn't surprised at what he saw. His father was sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping a damp cloth over Joe's face and Adam was sprawled out asleep in a chair. Tiny had disappeared and Annie seemed to have known he was on his way up. She pulled the door fully open and held a finger to her lips.

"Don't wake him. He only fell asleep half an hour ago."

Ben turned back to acknowledge his son's return and smiled as Hoss rushed over.

"How's he doin', Pa?"

"He hasn't woken up yet."

The stranger dropped a small black bag on the side table and began to pull out the things he required. "I'm Doctor Morris. Your son is quite persuasive when he chooses to be, Mister Cartwright." The doctor's clipped tone showed he was not entirely ready and willing to travel out into the night to see this particular patient, but Ben decided he didn't care what Hoss had needed to do to convince him. He just cared that a real doctor was there to see to his son's needs.

The doctor peeled back the edge of the blanket and nodded as Ben helped him to roll Joe onto his side so he could reach the wound on his back. When he didn't so much as twitch with the movement, Hoss felt his stomach beginning to flip wildly. The movement should have been painful. It should have brought forth a groan or a reaction of some kind. When Joe remained silent and still, he felt his fear rising.

"Pa?"

Ben moved over to grip his arm, reading his own fear reflected on his son's face. Neither of them spoke as the doctor continued his examination by edging back the bloodied bandages. He pulled away the thick wad of blood-soaked material and frowned at what he saw. The wound was not stitched and it still oozed blood. The bottle of whiskey still sat on the nightstand and he turned back towards the two men.

"I need to clean and redress this. Get me some fresh bandages and then come and help me hold him down."

It didn't need to be said that it was going to hurt. As father and son positioned themselves on either side of the bed, the doctor went to work. Hoss swallowed down a lump of fear as Joe still didn't react despite the doctor's prodding at the wound. He'd have given anything for Joe to shout at him or swing a punch his way, but his little brother was deathly quiet and far too still.

By the time the doctor had finished, Adam was once again fully awake and standing right behind his father.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's lost a lot of blood and that wound has been bleeding even after you removed the bullet. I've cleaned it and stitched it, but his body is in distress."

"So wadda we do about it?" Hoss would have moved mountains if need be, but he clenched his fists together, feeling totally helpless.

"We don't do anything. Except wait."

Ben grasped at Hoss' shoulder as he stepped forward menacingly.

"I brought you all the way here and all you're gonna do is wait!"

Doctor Morris sighed as he snapped his bag closed. "I'm sorry, but there are no magic cures. Given enough time his body can heal itself and he will pull through. Or he won't. You need to keep him warm. Try to get fluids into him if you can. And pray."

The doctor reached a hand out and placed it on Ben's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mister Cartwright. I don't mean to sound unfeeling, but I don't believe in holding out false hope. Your son is in God's hands. I truly wish there was more I could say or do, but only time will tell."

"Doctor, tell me something. If we had left the bullet in him and waited for you, would it have made a difference?"

The doctor saw a father's anguish and he smiled grimly. "You did the right thing. If you'd left it in there, he still would have been bleeding and he'd have an infection to fight off as well. You gave him a fighting chance."

Ben felt his knees giving out and he slid down onto the bed and once again grasped hold of his son's lifeless hand. He didn't hear as the doctor made his way out again or that Annie had arrived back with her husband in tow. He just heard the feather-light breaths that told him son was still alive.

"Don't worry, Pa. A wise man told me to hold onto Joe and not let him go. He isn't going anywhere."

"That's right, Pa. Little Joe's gonna be just fine!" Hoss crossed his arms and squared off to his brother as if daring anybody to object. Adam just nodded in confirmation. "He don't have a choice! He can't argue with all of us."

"Have you met our little brother? He could argue the hind leg off of a donkey!"

"Well then we'd better find a donkey for him to argue with, hadn't we."

As the conversation flowed on with both brothers trying to lighten the room, Ben barely heard them. He was grateful for the effort, but he could not shake the fear that had taken hold of him.

 _You did the right thing._

Nothing he had done in recent days felt like the right thing. If he had been so right, he would not be sitting by a bed praying for his son to live.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Te** n

Adam and Hoss had both tried and Annie had even threatened to get Tiny to physically remove him to the other room to rest, but Ben had refused all suggestions that he leave his son until he knew for certain he would be alright. Adam had reluctantly taken turns to catch some sleep after Hoss had all but manhandled him out of the room the day before. He had to admit that his arm throbbed intensely and the painkillers the doctor had left were helping some, but each time he hauled himself back into Joe's room, nothing had changed. Joe was far too pale and he seemed so very small and fragile under the mound of blankets that Annie had tucked around him. The doctor had said to keep him warm so they would keep him warm. The doctor had also advised them to pray and Adam knew he'd used every prayer he knew, including a few thinly coated bribes. Joe would have hated Adam's evaluation as he stared down at his youngest brother, but right there he looked like a small child again. Adam did a double-take as he could not reconcile what he was seeing with what he knew of Joe.

The boy who lay so quietly in the bed was not his brother. He was never totally still as his boundless energy just kept him in an almost constant state of motion. Even when he sat and played checkers, his boot was drumming time against the table leg or his hands were flicking pieces back and forth across his knuckles in a trick that Hoss had taught him. His mind was a whirl of activity that often preceded what Adam considered his hare-brained schemes. Little Joe was never still. Even in sleep, he seemed to be in a state of motion. The bedding would be half off the bed by the time he awoke in the morning and Adam smiled softly as he recalled many nights where he had tucked his brother into bed all over again after Joe had destroyed it. He had teased his brother and called him a hurricane, but the truth was, Joe was never still and Adam felt his chest constrict in physical pain.

"We need to move him onto his side again. Stop him getting those bedsores the doctor warned us about."

Adam glanced up to see Annie beside him and he nodded as she pulled back the blankets. His father was asleep in the chair beside the bed and he hoped to do what they needed to do without waking him. The man might seem indestructible, but every man had a breaking point and he was worried his father was edging closer to his.

He gently gripped at Joe's arms, trying to lift him without hurting him and eased him from his back onto his side. A mop of hair dropped across his face as he seemed to slide down into the pillow and Adam slid his hand under Joe's cheek to lift his head back up. He thought at first that he'd imagined it, but then he heard it again. The faintest whisper of a word had him kneeling on the floor with his face only inches from his brother's.

"Joe, c'mon little buddy, say that again." His own voice wavered as he tried to draw something more.

"A'am?"

"Yeah, Joe … I'm right here." A sob caught in his throat as he saw Joe's eyes flicker open briefly. He felt his father's hand gripping tightly onto his shoulder and he edged away a little to allow him room.

"Joseph?" Ben leaned over Adam's shoulder and held on tightly. He wasn't sure if he was giving encouragement or trying to keep himself steady, but either way he held on.

"Pa."

It was the one word he'd almost allowed himself to believe he'd never hear again from his youngest son and Ben reached out a hand. Adam was reluctant to let go, but he knew he was relinquishing his brother into the best of hands and he smiled as his father leaned down and lifted Joe into an embrace. Ben settled himself on the edge of the bed and allowed tears to run unchecked down his cheeks as he whispered something into the curls that were squashed up beneath his chin.

Adam felt Annie slip an arm around his waist and he returned the hug with gratitude. He saw tears in her eyes and he grinned at her as she smiled back.

It would be almost another day before Joe was really awake again and Adam noted that the change in his father was astounding. Hope was a powerful force and it could override all manner of things, including exhaustion. Of course, a sound few hours of sleep had helped, but nobody was going to challenge his father on that point again.

In the time in between, where Joe slept for long hours at a time, conversation had taken another turn. Where before it was stilted and focused on immediate need, suddenly it opened up and stories were shared. Tiny explained his first sight of Joe and the mixture of defiance and fear as the boy had boldly offered his services in exchange for his horse's needs.

"I knew right off there was somethin' about him. Cared more about that horse o' his than he did for himself."

Ben nodded as he could envisage what Tiny was describing. "When he first got Cochise, he spent the first two nights in the barn with him. I made him go to bed and during the night he dragged a blanket out there and bedded down in the stall with him." He chuckled at the memory as he had tried to sound stern when he'd found his son sound asleep in the straw, twice.

"Pa threatened to feed him raw oats for breakfast if he insisted on bein' a horse!"

As more tales of his little brother flowed across the room, Adam sat on the window ledge and was barely listening. His arm ached and he wrapped a hand around his elbow as if he could hold off the throbbing. His conversation with the big man had risen up several times and he looked across the room once again. Guilt still nibbled at the edges of his mind and each time he made eye contact with the man, he saw the same thing in his eyes. It wasn't until Joe had actually woken up for real and proven he was on the mend that either of them seemed willing to really let it go.

"Of course, it's his poor teacher I pitied the most." Ben laughed as he recalled some of the parent and teacher conversations he'd had over the years.

"I had boys like that in my classroom. They were the ones I loved the most because they showed the most passion for life. Not everything is measured in a report card, you know."

Hoss looked up to see Annie smiling at them. "You were a teacher, Miss Annie?"

"Many years ago. Before I came here and married Tiny. And even then, this town once had enough children for a school house." The memory seemed to cause her pain and Hoss looked across at her husband. His face was a neutral mask and he wondered what they were missing.

"What happened? To the town, I mean. There are so many empty buildings."

"The mine closed. Simple as that." Tiny rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as he joined in the conversation. "The town of Sunset is dyin'. Pretty name, but sad story. The mine closed after the owner went bust and people have been driftin' out ever since."

"But you chose to stay here. You must see some future in the town." Ben realised he was treading on sensitive ground and he stepped carefully.

"Our past is here. Neither of us wants ta go nowhere else."

It was clearly all they were going to get and Ben allowed the subject to drop. It would be another conversation on another day where Annie told him that their son was buried in the town cemetery. Another victim of a flu epidemic that was so much worse when there were no doctors willing to help. She smiled a sad smile as she explained that she would never ask Tiny to leave his boy behind and Ben had nodded in total understanding. It was a hard thing for a father to bury a son.

* * *

Joe lay on his side, propped up on a couple of pillows and watched intently as Hoss and Tiny squared up to each other. He'd seen Hoss take on any and all comers and had never seen anybody beat his brother before. With an extra couple of inches and a good few pounds on him, Tiny was shaping up to be the first. Annie ran her hands over her husband's shoulders and did an impromptu massage, as if warming him up for the challenge.

"Hey, Hoss."

Hoss turned to see Joe smirking at him.

"You need Adam to give you a warm up too?"

"Ain't never needed one before, little brother."

Adam grinned at the look on Joe's face and felt his own mood lifting. It was the first genuine spark he had seen in days and he could not look away.

Hoss leaned his elbow on the table and clenched his fist opened and closed a few times. He twisted his neck from side to side and popped his knuckles before leaning his elbow down again and taking Tiny's hand in his. The arm-wrestling match had come out of comment that Joe had made about his brother and both men had jumped at the chance to bring a smile to Joe's face.

"You ready to get crushed?" Tiny grinned at his opponent and Hoss narrowed his eyes.

"Ain't gonna happen."

As the two men grasped at each other's hand, Joe called out again.

"C'mon Hoss! You got this."

For the better part of five minutes, the two of them grappled against each other. The competition ebbed and flowed as both men tried to force the other one into submission. Hoss wasn't used to any such competition taking so long and he screwed his face up in concentration. Behind him, Joe kept up a running encouragement. Suddenly Hoss felt his hand being crushed and he frowned as his hand went the opposite way to where he thought it was going.

"Yeehaa! Hoss! You did it! I knew you could, brother!" The sheer elation in Joe's voice made Hoss turn back and grin at him before he turned back and frowned at Tiny. The big man shook his head slightly before he raised a two-fingered salute to his forehead.

"Well, don't that beat all, Annie? First time anybody done took me down and in my own back yard too."

Annie reached across and kissed him on the cheek as he rose from the chair. "Well you'll always be my hero."

"Good enough for me. Now I need to get on down to the livery and see that them animals is fed and watered."

"Let me give ya a hand with that. Least I can do." Hoss rose too and pushed his chair back in. As the two men made their way out into the street, Hoss stopped in his tracks. Tiny turned back to look at him and smiled slightly as he knew what was coming.

"Now s'pose you wanna tell me why you did that?"

"Did what?"

Hoss snorted back at him and shook his head. "You and I both know I didn't win that match. You forced my arm down to make it look like I won. Don't know if I coulda taken you down, but now I'll never know."

Tiny crossed his arms across his chest and pursed his lips. Finally he thumbed his hand over his shoulder and turned to move. "Let's keep movin'." It was a few more minutes before he continued on again. "That brother o' yours has got three heroes in his life. Your pa, your older brother and you. I ain't about to take away any o' his heroes."

"But bein' a hero is more than winnin' a wrestlin' match!"

"Course it is. But that boy's been through a tough time and he needs his big brother ta stay his hero for a mite longer."

Hoss nodded as he walked. He'd talked with Adam and both of them felt they'd let Joe down so badly. If he could restore something in his brother, then he'd do that in whatever way it took. Including taking credit for a thrown challenge.

* * *

Joe felt a lump forming in his throat as he halted at the threshold of the barn. It had been almost a month since he'd returned home and while his body was healed, his mind was still carrying the scars of his ordeal. The three Hamilton brothers were no threat any more and Roy had assured him that no charges were hanging over his head. Ed Longman had seen to it that any kind of slur against Joe was as dead and buried as Stan Hamilton was. The night Ben had told Joe that Ed and Becky were on their way over, Joe had wanted to object. He wanted to head back upstairs and bury himself in the bed he'd fought so hard to be allowed out of. The man's wild fury still haunted him and he half expected the father to come barreling through the door with a shotgun aimed his way. The meeting had been far more civil than he'd anticipated and he'd been shocked to see Becky's father twisting his hat in his hand and trying desperately to apologise. Becky had tears in her eyes as she watched him squirm and finally she had crossed the room and kissed Joe on the cheek. Her demeanor had changed and she seemed older somehow. The air of innocence was gone and he felt it keenly. Without realising immediately what it was, he later considered that his had been stripped away too. He might not be as grown up as he had once thought he was, but he would never again be the boy he had once been either.

"You going in or are you going to keep your date waiting?" Adam's voice broke through his thoughts and Joe jumped.

"I don't have a date!"

"Sure you don't. I saw Becky in the mercantile yesterday and she blushed a lovely shade of pink when I mentioned the dance. And your name."

"She's not my date." Joe tried again, but realised his brothers would only tease him more if he didn't suck it up and walk through the door. The sound of music carried through the night and increased in intensity as he finally tugged the door open.

Hoss winked at Adam as the two brothers watched their little brother make his way across the room. Not for the first time, he drew admiring glances from many angles and Adam tipped his hat back on his head as he groaned.

"How many potential dates does one little brother need?"

Hoss laughed at him as he pointed towards the back end of the room. "Just one. One right pretty one with red hair and freckles."

The band struck up a lively tune and before long, many couples were out on the floor. Joe found himself caught up in the atmosphere of the room as he pulled Becky along beside him. Her hair was pinned in a simple style and he could not take his eyes off her as she spun past him. The smattering of freckles across her nose still called out to him like some kind of siren and he eventually found himself edging her into an alcove. His heart was pounding wildly as he looked around for her father and noted the man was deep in conversation across the room. It seemed he was no longer concerned about leaving his daughter in Joe's hands.

Maybe he should have been.

* * *

Joe climbed up onto his horse and smiled as his father followed suit. It felt good knowing that by the end of the day they'd be delivering some very welcome news to some very good friends.

It was a fine day for riding and the four riders enjoyed the time together as well as the purpose for the trip. The last time any of them had set out from home had almost ended with tragedy and each of them seemed caught up in their own thoughts as they rode.

"Pa?"

"Yes, Son."

Joe swallowed the thick lump that almost kept him from breathing and he looked across at his father riding beside him.

"I never said I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"For running … instead of coming home."

There had been many parts of the story that had come out in various ways, but Ben had hung back on this particular part. Joe had kept it tucked tight to his chest and his father figured it would come out in its own good time. He held his tongue as he waited.

"It wasn't that I …" Joe twisted his reins in his hands as he struggled to find the right words. He trusted his family, but something had driven him away from them instead of towards them. "It all happened so fast. Becky was so upset and then her father … and I just figured that nobody would believe me. I wasn't really thinking. He said they'd take my brothers outta revenge and I just …" Joe found he could barely breathe as he remembered the look of pure hatred on Stan Hamilton's face.

"And you believed a credible threat." Ben watched his son try to compose himself and he continued on. "As it turned out, you were right. Those men were capable of hunting you down and trying to kill your brothers. If you'd come home, we could have faced it together, Son."

"I know." Joe hung his head in misery.

"Joseph … while we are being honest and open here ... we may not have believed they were a credible threat. So before you go carrying any more guilt or tormenting yourself any further, things could have gone very badly if you had come back too."

Joe lifted his head to stare back at his father. He hadn't considered that point at all.

"Son, I'm just profoundly grateful you found a man who did right by you and I'm proud of you that twice you stepped in to help somebody in spite of the danger you faced. By all the ways that I measure a man, that counts for a lot."

Joe felt his cheeks flaring as he took in his father's praise. It wasn't the way he would have chosen to receive it, but it carried enormous weight nonetheless.

It would be hours later that the four of them sat around a table in the small dining room of the Sunset Hotel. It felt surreal to be back in the building and Joe smiled across the table at familiar faces. Tiny and Annie had rounded up a handful of locals, including Matt Sanders and sat and listened as Ben outlined his plan.

"I have a consortium of backers who are interested in this project, but we want local input and ideas. This is your town. You know what you need most."

Joe sat and listened as the conversation flowed back and forth. Hope was moving for the first time in a long time and he smiled as he saw his father in his element. He could not have anticipated what would happen when he pulled his tired horse into the small town of Sunset all those weeks ago. The changes the town had wrought in him. The shift in his relationship with his brothers. New found friends who felt like family. Hope being restored as the plan to re-open the mine was unveiled. He knew his father would do whatever it took to bring the plan to fruition and he knew why. He smiled again as Adam stepped up to talk about assay results and timber shoring and new mining practices and things that bored him to tears, but brought his brother to life. Hoss sat with his hands across his belly as he considered the fine meal he'd just devoured. He glanced across to see Joe smiling at him and he grinned back.

By the time the meeting concluded and people slowly drifted out of the hotel, Joe was outside, leaning up against the hitching rail. He stared up into the night sky and noted the stars overhead. The mud had long since dried up, but the main street still bore the scars of deep wheel ruts. There was not enough traffic to smooth out the road, but that could soon change. The derelict town could soon live again. He nodded a thank you to the heavens as he thought back over all that had happened. A dastardly act had almost destroyed a young girl's life and the follow on consequences could have destroyed many lives. Instead, a town was about to be given a new life. He was lost in thought when he felt heavy footsteps behind him and he knew who was there.

A hand dropped onto the back of his neck and he smiled into the darkness. "Well boy, seems that pa o' yours is gonna bring a miracle to this place. I never could leave here, 'slong as Annie's heart was tied to our young'un. Couldn't make her leave our boy behind. Now she don't have to ever worry about that again. We'll be in your family's debt forever, I reckon."

"No. The debt is mine." Joe turned to see his father and brothers behind them with Annie on Ben's arm. "You gave me a gift that no amount of money could ever repay."

Joe smiled as he considered his father's heartfelt words. Tiny squeezed his shoulder, suddenly uncomfortable under the scrutiny and praise.

"If this one ever gives ya any more trouble, you send him right on back here. I could do with a new apprentice once folks start movin' inta town."

"So, we could just let you ride off into the sunset after all." Adam grinned at him as Joe threw a mock punch.

"You'd miss me too much!"

"Maybe." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe not."

Ben patted Annie's hand as he chuckled at the comments going back and forth. "I think the more things change, the more they stay the same!"

"So were you serious before when you said you want to re-open the school?" Adam had heard her talking about it, but not spoken directly about it.

"Well, this town is going to need one don't you think?"

"I think this town is going to need a whole lot of things. Just as soon as we get back home and get this thing rolling."

As the four of them rode out in the early light of the next dawn, Ben looked back over his shoulder once more. He thanked God his son had found this forgotten town and he smiled at the irony of it all. The sunrise brought new hope to a little town called Sunset.

* * *

 _Well, that's all folks. I managed to get "dastardly" in there after all for SierraGirlBZ and I hope that Criminally Charmed approved of the arm-wrestle. Sorry, but I just couldn't wangle Muttley as much as he tried to sneak in! Thank you so very much for your kindness and encouragement along the way. Thank you to anonymous reviewers that I can't reply to. I always think a good story needs good OCs and I'm glad you liked mine enough to take them to heart. Having said that, I'm working on a sequel to Prodigal Sons that is based on Harry's revelations about a plot against him and how a certain other big brother might be needed to help out. Yes, Joe and Stacey are back, and we'll see how things pan out with them. It's not behaving itself yet as far as a plotline goes, but hopefully it won't be too far off._


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